


The Fallout

by Nevermore (KAS_AuthorsApprentice)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 01, Multi, Post-Episode: s05e22 The Gift, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 54,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10073036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAS_AuthorsApprentice/pseuds/Nevermore
Summary: Things go differently starting with After Life. Buffy and Spike had a more heartfelt farewell before Glory. Now, back from the grave, things pick up right where they left off…in more ways than one…I promise this is not just a rehash of season six. The first chapter might seem that way—but it's just for set-up. Things take a turn after this and there's no going back!





	1. Girl Knows How to Make an Entrance

**Author's Note:**

> Things go differently starting with After Life. Buffy and Spike had a more heartfelt farewell before Glory. Now, back from the grave, things pick up right where they left off…in more ways than one…
> 
> I promise this is not just a rehash of season six. The first chapter might seem that way—but it's just for set-up. Things take a turn after this and there's no going back!
> 
> I own nothing. All characters are Joss' and I'm just practicing with them.

**Ch. 1:**

**The Girl Knows How to Make an Entrance**

 

"Nibblet!" Spike's voice boomed from the kitchen. Dawn shrank a few inches. The teenager looked longingly at the front door, and then aborted her quest to sneak out. She adopted her best look of innocence and rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Her resident vampire was standing at the kitchen sink. His hands were concealed by waxy yellow gloves and planted firmly on his hips. His lips pressed in a hard line. If not for the sharp look in his eyes, Dawn would've laughed at the sight of the big bad getting his domestic on.

"Sneaking out of this house is one of the more daft ideas you've had of late." He tried to point to his ear but instead ended up spreading dish-soap-bubbles along his sharp cheek bone. "Vampire here Bit.  _I hear everything_."

Dawn's chin quivered as she fought against the smile building up. Spike huffed once and she burst out laughing. "Come on Spike, I've been cooped up in here all day. It's Saturday. I just wanted to go out and do something normal."

Spike's eyes softened. It had been weeks since Dawn had shown an interest in any sort of normal teenage activity. Buffy's recent death still loomed heavy in the air…it always would…but sulking about the house was getting them nowhere. Even Spike had to admit, it was time to start encouraging Dawn to move on.

He pulled off the radioactive gloves and perched on a barstool near Dawn. "Where pray-tell were you scarpering off to then?"

Dawn shrugged, "I'm supposed to meet Janice at the mall. Typical teenage outing— lots of danger and scandal."

Spike's eyes narrowed. "Straight to the mall and home by six? No detours?"

"Cross my heart."

Spike gave one roll of his eyes and then smiled in spite of himself. He pulled out his wallet and handed Dawn a twenty. "I find out you're lying and I'll bite you."

Dawn grinned and gave the vampire a quick hug. "Thanks Spike." She yanked her purse up on her shoulder and raced out the door, shouting a quick, "See you tonight!"

"Back by six!" Spike yelled, but the door slammed shut before he finished. He shook his head and went back to the sink to finish the dishes.

As he pulled the hateful gloves back on, he chuckled at the turn his life had taken in recent months.  _If my poker buddies could see me now._  In truth, he couldn't complain too much. All the Scoobies were too cloaked in their own grief to notice him or Dawn. No brows had been raised when he stepped into the role of caregiver. They actually seemed relieved to be free of Dawn duty.

With the Wicca's in summer school most days, or at the Magic Box, Spike had free reign of the Summers' house. There, he could at least feel Buffy's memory. It wasn't much comfort but it was the best he could've hoped for.

* * *

When the dishes were done, Spike grabbed a cold beer and his "Bite Me" mug brimming with blood. He plopped himself in front of the t.v.

Episodes of Passions came and went and soon it was six o'clock. Dawn would be home any minute…

By 6:10, he was drumming his fingers on his denim clad thighs….

By 6:20, he was nervously pacing the living room.  _What if Nibblet's in trouble? Sun's not quite set, can't go play hero yet._

By 6:45, he was torn between storming out to rescue Dawn, sun be damned, or ripping her devious little head off…

At 7:15, night fell on Sunnyhell and Spike threw on his duster. He ripped open the front door only to see Dawn hobbling up the drive, dragging someone along with her by the hand…a female someone by the looks of it.

Spike's throat tightened, all anger extinguished like a candle's flame. He raced down the porch steps and clutched Dawn in a crushing hug. He paid no attention to her companion.

"Thank God. Scared me half to death, or  _more_  to death." Spike exhaled slowly, willing his nerves to calm. "You…I could kill you."

"Geez Spike, overreact much?" Dawn stepped to the side to pull her companion forward.

"I mean it. I could rip your head off one handed and drink from your brain stem—"

"Spike, shut up!" Dawn cut him off, "Look."

Spike glanced for the first time at the girl beside Dawn. Suddenly the night seemed deathly still. There were no crickets chirping, no cars driving. There was only silence as his eyes fell upon his Slayer, his reason for existing, his Buffy.

The silence drew around them like a shroud, wrapping Buffy and Spike in a frozen moment. Finally, Dawn's voice broke through the haze.

"She's been through a lot…" Dawn trailed off. "Spike? Are you okay?"

Spike's mind was whirling with questions.  _The Bot? No, this one has a heartbeat…which means…_ His jaw worked to form words, but it took several attempts before any sounds came out. "Luv?"

His voice was soft, but still the Slayer flinched. She wrapped her arms around her middle and lowered her eyes to the pavement.

Without taking his eyes off Buffy, Spike said, "Dawn, What did you do?" Memories of the teens rash actions after their mother's death flooded his mind. The zombie-Joyce-that-almost-was.

Dawn's round eyes widened to planet sized proportions, "Me? N—n—nothing. I found her." She stuttered.

Spike opened his mouth to speak but the words died on his tongue. A new voice, Buffy's, said, "It's cold."

Spike and Dawn both sprang into action.

"Oh, Luv. Let's get you inside."

"Oh my god, Buffy, I'm so sorry!"

The vampire and the teen ushered the disorientated slayer into the house. They paused in the foyer, all uncertain where to go from there.

Spike had spent countless hours in this room since Buffy's death, but now standing with her again, memories echoed off the walls.

_"I know I'm a monster but you treat me like a man."_

_"Come upstairs with me William. We don't have much time…"_

Spike's hand drifted toward Buffy's long soft hair, but stopped short of touching her. His hand fell back to his side. His eyes swept over her—inch by inch. He still couldn't comprehend that it was really her standing in front of him…close enough to touch. Same blonde hair, same tanned skin, same bloody knuckles—wait.

"Her hands." He said.

"They were like that when I found her. I was going to fix them. I don't know how they got like that." Said Dawn.

 _A coffin, that's bloody how._ Spike swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how. Innit right?"

Buffy's eyes turned down, an increasingly frequent gesture, "Yeah…That's what I had to do."

"I've done it myself." Spike wanted to wrap her up in his arms. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to hold her. But he didn't know where he stood with her. He settled for a gentle pat on her shoulder. "We'll take care of you." He turned to Dawn, "Get some stuff, mercurochrome, bandages."

Dawn scampered off as Spike slowly coaxed Buffy to the couch. He sat gently, directly in front of her, on the coffee table and took her precious hands in his.

How many times had he dreamed of this? Well, not exactly this—with the skin of her hands torn and shredded…dirt caked on her clothes— Still, by some miracle, the hands resting in his belonged to the Slayer. It was the closest thing to a miracle he'd seen in all his 140 years.

"How long was I gone?" she asked, her voice still hoarse from disuse.

"147 days yesterday. 148 today. Except today doesn't count does it?" He smiled at his joke, but Buffy remained stoic. "How long was it for you? Where you were?"

"Longer." Was all she said.

* * *

Dawn returned with the first aid kit, just as the front door burst open and the Scooby Gang filed in, all four of them shouting over one another…

_"Is she here?"_

_"She's here."_

_"We didn't know where you were!"_

_"Buffy! Are you okay?"_

Four pairs of eyes focused on Spike and Buffy—but not one of them looked surprised to see the Slayer. Spike's eyes narrowed.  _So that's it then? Caught red handed. Not one of them bothered to say anything to me or poor Dawnie._

Spike stood up, ready to tear them limb from limb, but a tiny hand slipped into his and squeezed. He glanced at Buffy, then at their joined hands.

Dawn must've come to the same conclusion as Spike. "You knew she was back?" Asked the teen, with the smallest trace of hurt in her voice. "How did you know?"

Once again, the confused chatter commenced.

_"You're not a zombie are you?"_

_"Anya!"_

_"Are you in pain?"_

_"What do you know about what happened?"_

"Hey!" Dawn yelled, silencing the noise. "Back off."

The small part of Spike's brain that wasn't in awe from feeling Buffy's hand wrapped in his, swelled with pride at Dawn's words.  _That's my girl. A Summers to the marrow._

Xander's eyes zeroed in on Spike and Buffy's joined hands. Spike took a small step in front of Buffy, protecting her from their onslaught and daring Xander to open his big mouth.

Dawn continued, "You did this. What did you do?"

Willow said, "A spell. We didn't think it worked but it did…"

"Is she going to be okay?" Dawn and Spike said in unison.

Buffy squeezed his hand and then let go. She looked at the others and said, "I'm okay. I'm going to be fine. I remember. You brought me back."

"What was it like?" Anya piped up, voice full of inappropriate curiosity.

Again, the Slayer's eyes found the floor, "I-I can't"

"It's alright. We don't have to talk about this now." Xander said.

"You're bloody right we don't have to talk about this now. Let the girl breathe."

The room fell silent. It was perhaps the first time in history that Xander didn't have a snappy comeback. In fact, he looked properly chastised, as did the rest of the Scoobies. They all took a minuscule step away from the Summer's girls and their fierce protector.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Xander clasped his hands and rubbed them together. "Do you want something? Anything? Pizza!" He exclaimed.

" _Buffy likes Pizza."_

_"She doesn't want Pizza!"_

"Guys!" Dawn shouted again, "Back off."

"Why don't we let the slayer tell us what she needs." Spike said softly, eyes again locked on his Slayer.

"I think I just want to go to sleep." Buffy said. She slipped her hand back into Spike's standing so no one would see the small movement.

_"That's a good Idea."_

_"Right, you should sleep. But, Buffy be happy…we got you out. We really did it."_

_"I'm tired."_

_"Yeah jet lag form Hell has got to be…well, jet lag from Hell."_

Anya's comment lie where it fell.

Buffy glanced at Spike and Dawn beside her. "My room is-"

"Yeah…yes…it's your room." Dawn said.

Buffy nodded and slipped away from Spike's side. She managed to whisper, "Come up when they've gone." Just soft enough for Spike and Spike alone to hear.

* * *

Spike watched her go, longing to be at her side but just as eager to tear into her bloody insensitive friends.

The Scoobies gaped at each other. Willow and Tara were too busy arguing about how "fine" Buffy was to pay any mind to Spike. Xander as always, found his target. "So, Spike. I hope your not going to start your little obsession now that she's around again."

Spike had the whelp by the shirt front in the blink of an eye. The other Scoobies froze.

"You didn't tell me." Spike growled, "You brought her back and you didn't tell me."

Xander shrugged, "Well now you know."

Spike's bravado melted, and his voice filled with tears…but he refused to be weak in front of them. With as much strength as he could muster he said, "I worked beside you all summer." With that he released the Whelp and stepped back.

"We didn't tell you. It was just…we didn't okay?" Xander said. He ignored the look of betrayal on the vampire's sharp face. He was good at ignoring these things. Years of practice.

"Listen, I figured it out. Maybe you haven't, but I have." Spike pointed an accusing finger at the red witch, "Willow knew there was a chance that she would come back wrong. So wrong that you'd have to…" Spike trailed off. He couldn't bear to finish that thought. He took a breath and continued, "So wrong that she would have to get rid of what came back…and I wouldn't let her. Any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let her. That's why she shut me out. Am I right Red?"

Willow's mouth floundered.

"What are you talking about? Willow wouldn't do that." Xander said, stepping closer to his friend.

"Oh, is that right?" Spike said. He'd have said more if not for Dawn placing a gentle hand on his arm and whispering his name. Reluctantly, Spike backed down.

Xander said, "Look, you're just covering. Don't tell me you're not happy. Look me in the eyes and tell me that, when you saw Buffy alive, that wasn't the happiest moment of your entire existence."

Xander's words echoed through them all. The color drained from the room. The same somber air that had existed since Buffy's death returned to the house, but this time it was mixed with shame. What had they done? What price would they pay?

"Well, if Buffy's allowed to go to bed…then we should too." Anya tugged her fiancé's hand, "Xander, I want to go to bed now."

"Don't let us keep you Harris." Spike mumbled, throwing himself on the couch. He needed a cigarette…or twelve.


	2. Open the Flood Gates

**Ch. 2**

**Open the Flood Gates**

Spike stood in the shadow of the large oak in front of Buffy's window. A cigarette dangled from his lips and a dozen more decorated the grass beneath his feet.

He glanced up at Buffy's window. She was up there, waiting for him. Why? He had no idea…but he was itching to find out.

The lights went out from each window, one by one. Finally, he heard the witches shut their bedroom door. He tossed his final cigarette on the ground with the others and climbed up the tree to Buffy's window.

Spike tapped lightly on the glass.

He heard her rustle around inside the room before unlocking and sliding open the window. She said nothing. She just left the window open and padded back to her bed. A silent invitation.

Spike climbed into her room and stood awkwardly before her, hands shoved in the pockets of his duster. Memories of the last time they'd been alone together in her room came back. Her bed—so soft and warm.

Spike willed those memories back to the secret place in his mind reserved for everything he cherished. Now was not the time. Spike was now more unsure than before about why he was there, unsure what she wanted.

By the looks of it, Buffy didn't know either. The Slayer had never looked so lost. She was still dressed in a crisp white button down and jeans, perched on the end of her bed, staring down at the pink fuzzy rug. Her hazel eyes were hollow. As good as dead.

"You're too good for doors now?" she said after a long silence.

"The Wiccas are sleeping just across the hall. Didn't want to take the chance of them catching me sneaking up here."

Buffy nodded slowly. "That's right, they live here now. In mom's room…Sorry, I'm just having trouble keeping it all straight. Everything's different. "

Spike cautiously pulled off his duster and draped it over her vanity chair before sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. "Awe Pet, s'not that different. They moved in to keep Nibblet company. Didn't change a thing else in the house I swear."

Buffy was silent. Her hands were folded in her lap, picking at the bandages now wrapped around her torn skin.

"Listen Slay—Buffy, about that night, before Glory…well, you know."  _Where did that come from._  Hadn't he just promised himself he wouldn't bring that up.  _Bloody stupid tongue running away from me. Oh well, now that I've opened that door, might as well walk through it._ Spike raked a shaky hand through his gelled curls, "I know that it didn't mean—what I wanted…oh balls. I'm no good at this."

"That's not why I asked you here Spike." Said Buffy.

He glanced at her, only to find her hazel eyes locked on him. "What did you want to talk about then Luv?"

"Thank you. For keeping your promise. For taking care of Dawn." She made an attempt at a smile and then dropped her eyes down, "That's all."

So many things were on the tip of his tongue.  _I love you. You have no idea what it was like without you. I'd watch the Bit for the rest of my existence if you asked._ He said none of those things.

"Anytime Luv."

"Well I'm gonna…" Buffy gave a vague wave to the bed behind them.

Spike sprang to his feet. "Right. I'll just shove off then."

"Oh." Buffy looked up at him, an uncertain question in her eyes. "You don't have to go…actually, could you not—go? Could you—"

Spike stilled, "O'course Luv."

Buffy scooted herself back until she was propped against the headboard, leaving a spike-sized space beside her.

The vampire's eyes widened, seeing  _where_  she intended for him to stay, but he wasn't about to argue. He quickly kicked off his boots and laid down beside her. He made sure to leave a small sliver of space between them, so he wouldn't startle her into changing her mind about inviting him into her bed.  _Well, not like it's the first time…_

Both of them lie on their backs, studying the little glow-in-the-dark stars speckling her ceiling, a relic from teenage Buffy years.

"That night didn't mean what you thought it meant Spike. I—" Buffy said.

Spike was glad for the darkness that prevented her from seeing the hurt that flashed across his face. "I know pet. Forget I brought it up. Don't know what I was thinking. Sometimes my mouth runs off before my mind can catch up-"

"Let me finish." Buffy interrupted, "I didn't do it because I thought we were going to die. It wasn't pity either. With all that's happened—my death and all—I can't tell you what it means now…but that night wasn't nothing. It's  _not_  nothing."

Buffy turned her eyes back to the cookie cutter star shapes glowing above, leaving Spike to gaze at the side of her face in wonder.  _Two miracles in one night. She comes back to me and she tells me that night meant something._

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

* * *

Buffy woke to an empty bed. For a moment she thought she'd dreamt it all. The death. The waking. The Coffin. Spike. Then, she saw the bandages wrapped around her hands and her face crumbled.

No luck. It was all real.

"Buffy?" Dawn said from outside the door. "Are you awake?"

Buffy sat up and straightened her clothes. "Yeah. Come in."

Dawn edged into the room like a skittish animal. "Everyone's gathering at the Magic Box for a little old fashioned research party. Apparently Willow and Tara saw some freaky stuff last night. Xander too. Interested?" The teenager flashed her most encouraging smile.

"I don't know Dawnie. I'm not really feeling the group pow wow yet. I was thinking I'd just hang around here today. Maybe watch some t.v…or shower."

"Of course. No big." Dawn said much too quickly. "I'll let everyone know."

Dawn went back to the door. She paused in the doorway and turned back to her sister, "Buff, would you mind if I hung around too?"

"Of course not. We can have a sister day…on Sunday…a Special Sister Sunday!" Buffy's face fell into a pout, "That sounded better in my head."

Dawn laughed, "Go take a shower goof…and Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here." Dawn swept out of the room, taking her lighthearted energy with her.

Buffy stared at the doorway, the fake smile she'd mustered to humor Dawn melted away. The hollow shell returned. "Yeah, no place I'd rather be." Buffy whispered to her empty room.

* * *

A couple days had gone by, and the world hadn't imploded…at least not the outside world. Buffy felt her personal world imploding at lest four or five times a day…not that any of her friends noticed.

The only unnervingly perceptive one of the bunch had been Spike, as odd as that was. Buffy found herself at a loss for how to deal with this new side of him. She'd known things would be awkward, considering the way they parted…but she hadn't expected this sensitive new vampire.

She thought back to that night again, the night before her world quite literally came to an end. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered exactly what had possessed her to do what she'd done.

Had she really clung to him because she  _knew_  she was going to die…and he'd been there…been convenient? Or was there another reason, something deep inside she didn't want to admit to?

Everyone had been gathered at the Magic Box that night, awaiting the showdown. She and Spike had come back to gather weapons. They'd been alone in the house, which was the first mistake. She'd been scared, and vulnerable…and Spike had been there. Supporting her. Listening to her.  _Seeing_  her.

_"I know you'll never love me. I know I'm a monster…but you treat me like a man, and that's…"_

_Buffy cut off his soul-bearing speech by taking his hand. It was cool, but not frigid. His hands were surprisingly elegant. Of course her only basis for comparison were Angel and Riley. Both of whom were considerably larger than Spike. Buffy found that, in that moment, his hands were just the right size._

_"Come upstairs with me. We don't have much time, we have to be back at the Magic Box before nine."_

_Spike's eyes narrowed. Of course, the one time Buffy was offering herself, he had to be all noble._

_"Why would you want me to go with you?" Spike asked. "Is there a specific reason, besides the looming apocalypse?"_

_Buffy sighed, still clutching his hand, "Does there have to be a reason?"_

_Spike brought their joined hands to his lips. He pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles and said, "Luv, you know how much I love you. But, I'll not be taking advantage of you while you're all shaken-up. When we do this…we're going to do it right."_

_"You wouldn't be taking advantage." Buffy yanked her hand back and folded her arms over her chest. "I was offer—asking because it's what I wanted. But if you don't want me…"_

_Spike had the audacity to laugh. "Oh Luv, wanting you is not the problem." He stepped toward her, but she backed away just out of reach. She wouldn't let herself be cajoled that easily._

_"Buffy, I do want you. So bad it feels like my blood is boiling—burning me up each time we touch. You're everywhere…filling my every moment. I've never craved anyone like I crave you. But, it's not just your body I crave. I want your affection. I want you to return my feelings and I'm not going to do anything that could bollocks that up."_

_Sometime during his speech, Buffy had stopped backing away. She was now pressed against the wall at the foot of the stairs with him just a breath away._

_He cupped her cheek in his hand and rubbed soft circles on her soft skin. "Ask me when this is all over and you know my answer will be yes."_

_That should've ended the conversation…but Buffy couldn't stop herself. His eyes were so warm…and had they always been that blue? She launched herself at him and claimed his lips with her own…_

"Whoa, calling Space-Cadet-Buffy. The movie's over." Dawn's voice was as good as a slap in the face, waking Buffy from her thoughts.

"What?" Buffy blinked and registered the credit's rolling on the screen.

"The movie's over." Said Dawn. "Want me to pick out another?"

Buffy nodded, "Sure…you do that. I'm going to get more snacks. You want?" Buffy asked as she pried herself from the couch. She needed some fresh air.

Dawn nodded so hard Buffy thought her head might come off. "Yes, more sugary goodness!"

"After that response I think carrots and celery might be in order." Buffy giggled as she went to the kitchen. Her msile dissapeared as soon as she was alone.

The slayer opened the refrigerator and closed her eyes, letting the cool air kiss her skin—clear her mind. She let out a breath and began rooting for healthy snacks.  _Boy, pickins are slim. To do list: grocery shopping…check._ Buffy grabbed a bag of baby carrots and two cans of Coke to wash them down. She shut the fridge door only to come face to face with Spike.

The snacks went flying and she yelped in surprise. Spike's hands shot out and intercepted the Coke cans before they crashed to the tile.

"God, Spike! What are you doing lurking in the middle of the…" Buffy pointed at the bright window, "broad daylight?"

Spike gave her a lopsided grin, "Feelin' jumpy Luv? Nice to see you cleaned-up, by the way." He set the Coke's on the counter and sidled a bit closer to the Slayer. "Lookin' like your old self."

Buffy rolled her eyes.  _Yeah, feeling like my old self too…except for the daydreaming about my mortal enemy thing…and the gaping hole in my heart._ "So…why are you here?"

Spike looked insulted. The muscle on the side of his chiseled jaw twitched. "I usually drop by about now to check in on the Nibblet. Although, I have to say, crashing into you was a welcome surprise."

 _He usually drops by._ Buffy's tan skin became a shade paler, "Oh, right. Just more normal, everyday, routine stuff I know nothing about."

Spike winced. He gently brushed the back of his knuckles down Buffy's cheek, and smiled when she didn't pull away. "Don't be like that Luv. You just need a bit of time to adjust s'all."

Before she could stop herself, Buffy leaned into his touch. Then, as quick as they came, the cool fingers were gone. Spike's hands were deep in his pockets and he was back to staring at her as if she were a precious vase that might shatter.

"About the other morning. Didn't mean to pull a vanishing act on you. I just thought it would be better if I slipped out before anyone woke up. Have to protect your virtue and all that."

"Hey Spike!" Dawn said as she bounced into the kitchen and beelined to the Coke cans. "What about Buffy's virtue?"

Spike cleared his throat and put some distance between him and the Slayer. Buffy tucked a stray hair behind her ear and tugged at the hem of her tank top.

Dawns eyes bounced between her sister and pseudo-brother. "I didn't interrupt anything did I?"

"What? Dawn, of course not. Spike was just—"

"I was just dropping in to check on my favorite girls."

Dawn gave a knowing smirk, "Uh-huh…just don't break anything." With that, Dawn grabbed the Cokes and skipped out of the kitchen.

A flustered Buffy raced out after her. "What…no…there will be no breaking things."

Spike shook his head at the two pint sized girls who held his heart.

* * *

"What happened to Spike?" Dawn asked as she and Buffy snuggled back into the couch. Buffy gave a silent shrug.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Oh, I bet you're just a little bit curious." Dawn teased.

"Luv?" Spike said appearing in the doorway, "Did you know you're basement is flooded?"


	3. More Then Money Woes

**Ch. 3**

**More than Money Woes**

Buffy lie in her bed, sleep eluding her as usual. The worries of the day built up inside her, deepening the despair she already felt about her return to life.  _Flooded basements, loans, full copper re-pipes. Yep, being alive is all it's cracked up to be._

Of course, that wasn't the only thing on her mind. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was finding it harder and harder to get any sleep without Spike's presence.

She'd almost began to look forward to their nightly conversations. Somehow, she'd crawled from her grave to this topsy-turvy world where a chipped-bleached-vampire was the only one who brought her any comfort.

As if he'd heard her thoughts, there was a tap at the bedroom window.

"Come-in Spike." She said, knowing his vampire hearing would catch her words.

The window slid up and Spike tumbled in. Buffy giggled, "You're awful noisy for a creature of the night."

"It would help if you didn't move your nightstand right below my window." He grumbled as he righted the perfume bottles and hair products he'd knocked over. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoy laughing at me."

"Your window?" Buffy said, casting a sideways glance at the handsome vampire.

He shrugged out of his duster, babbling an excuse. "I well—I mean, s'not like anyone else climbs through that window. No one else  _does_  climb through that windowright?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and patted the space beside her.  _Spike's spot._  Not that she would ever admit that. "Relax Spike, if you want the window, you can have the window." Buffy felt the knot in her chest loosen as he slid onto the bed beside her.

They stared at the glow-stars. Their new routine. Heartfelt conversations, beneath the fake stars. In the dark, where no one could eavesdrop or judge. Just her and her shadow.

"So, I see the Watcher's made his triumphant return. How long will he be sullying up the couch?"

"He's getting his apartment situated tomorrow." Buffy said quietly. Her mind thought back to the group hugs and teary eyes that had commenced when Giles turned up at the Magic Box. She frowned.

"Well, that must have been nice for you—and nauseating." He corrected. "Sappy group reunion…all the Super Friends back together again."

"Yeah…one big happy family." She said softly.

Spike sensed the change in her mood. He rolled onto his side and brushed his fingers across her bare arm. "Slayer—Buffy, are you okay?"

She was so lost in her thoughts, she barely registered Spike's cool touch on her skin. "I'm here. I'm good."

His hand moved to her cheek, turning her morose face to meet his. "Buffy, if you're in pain—or if you need anything—or if I can do anything for you."

"You can't." She shook off his hand and went back to staring at the ceiling.

Once again, she'd rejected his attempts at tenderness.  _Nothing new there,_ Spike thought. This post-resurrection Slayer could be so unpredictable. One minute she was snuggled up to his side, asleep. The next, she wouldn't even let him graze her cheek.

Instead of showing he was hurt, the vampire pushed William out of the way and put Spike back in the driver's seat. "Well I haven't been to a hell dimension just of late. But I do know a thing or two about torment."

"I was happy." Her voice was so soft, he almost thought he'd imagined it. But, what came next banished all doubt from his mind, "Wherever I was. I was happy. At peace. I knew that everyone I cared about was alright. I knew it. Time didn't mean anything. Nothing had form, but I was still me you know? And I was warm. And I was loved. And I was finished. Complete."

"I don't understand theology or dimensions…any of it really. But, I think I was in Heaven…and now I'm not."

"Oh, Luv." Spike said as he pulled her into his arms, no thought of possible rejection.

"I was torn out of there, by my  _friends_." She said into the soft cotton of his tee, "Everything here is hard and bright and violent. Everything I feel. Everything I touch. This is Hell. Just getting through the next moment…and the one after that. Knowing what I've lost."

Spike wanted to kill them…no maim them. Maybe he would—make it look like an accident. The Slayer would never need to know. He'd bloody told them, hadn't he?  _Magic always has consequences._

"Luv, what they did was bloody stupid. I tried to tell them as much." Spike sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, "I wish I knew what to say. How to comfort you."

"It's ok. There's nothing to say. But, Spike—" She looked into his blue eyes, "They can never know. Never."

Spike nodded. He couldn't verbally agree, couldn't make his tongue say what his heart refused to. So, he just nodded. "Want me to take them out? Chip would give me hell, but I could start with Harris and work my way through the rest."

Buffy smiled. She smiled because of him. With pride in his heart Spike said, "Knew I could get a grin."

The Slayer settled her head back against his chest. She knew she should move away, stop leading him on. But, no matter how hard she tried, her body refused to stop enjoying the way his fingers felt running through her hair. The way his hard, cool body, pressed against hers made her feel safe.

During quiet moments like these, her mind tended to dredge up repressed memories—the night before Glory—the night they spent in each other's arms. Well, it had only been an hour or so, but it felt like a whole night…it felt timeless.

Buffy gave up pretending she wasn't okay with his nearness and let out a sigh of contentment. "So, do you know anything about finances?"

Spike chuckled at the abrupt change of tone. "Taking up a new hobby pet? Or is there another reason?"

"Well, you know how the basement's turned into an indoor swimming pool? Turns out that costs a lot of money to fix…and I have none."

"What happened to the money your mum left? Didn't the witches manage it while you were—away?"

"There were expenses. Food, clothes, medical bills." Buffy yawned as she spoke and her eyes drooped. "They did their best."

 _Yeah right._ "Well Slayer, as it happens yours truly knows more than a thing or two about financials. Why don't you get some shut eye and we'll talk about it when the sun's up."

Buffy's nodded against his chest bringing a smile to his face. He let the sound of her steady heartbeat lull him into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

It was Spike's turn to wake with an empty space beside him, and the sound of the bathroom door shutting in the hall. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. It was still dark, 3am if his internal clock was anything to go by.

"Slayer?" He whispered.

When he didn't receive an answer he swung himself out of bed and went into the hall. He found Buffy in the bathroom, huddled against the wall, her forehead resting against the porcelain toilet seat.

Spike flew to her side. "You alright Slayer?"

A moan that sounded like 'What do you think stupid vamp?' came from the slight girl, followed by, "Spike, get out." That was crystal clear.

Spike frowned in offense. He let go of her like he'd been burned. "Well fine. Punish me for being concerned then. I see how it is."

"No, I mean—" she leapt back toward the toilet and heaved again. With a groan she flopped back against the wall. "I didn't want you to see that."

Spike pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. "You coming down with something?" He frowned. "Temperature's alright. Eat anything green and oozing lately?"

The Slayer swatted his hand away and rose to her feet. "I think it's passed now."

Buffy went to the sink and rinsed her mouth with tap water. She checked herself in the mirror and yelped when she turned and Spike was right behind her, wearing that concerned expression she was coming to expect.

"God, can you not do that? The no reflection thing is creepy."

"Buffy—" he said firmly. He wasn't going to let her brush off what just happened.

The Slayer walked out of the bathroom. "I mean, you can't climb through a window without waking the neighborhood, then you go all stealthy in the mirror—"

He gently took her arm and spun her to face him. "Luv, what was that all about? Ae you alright?"

Buffy yanked her arm free and stomped into her room. "I'm so sick of everyone asking if I'm alright! Just leave it alone Spike. I threw-up. It happens. I'm human…though, I guess you wouldn't get what that's like."

 _Way to go, wanker._  Spike scolded himself.  _I'm the one bloody person she can count on to not treat her like she's made of glass, and I have to go bolloxing it up. Sound worse than her little Scoobies. Chased Buffy away, now she's all Slayer._

Spike perched on the edge of the bed and gave her a disarming smile. Buffy was curled up on top of the covers, clutching her stuffed pig to her chest like a willful child. "I know you're not fragile Luv. Didn't mean to coddle you. Just threw me for a loop s'all—waking up to find you spewing your guts."

"Thanks for the mental picture Spike."

"S'what I'm here for." Spike climbed back to his spot as the Slayer gradually unraveled her body—defenses recoiling.

Buffy hesitated for a split second before snuggling back against his cool side.

"Night Slayer." Spike said.

"Mmmrph." Was the only reply he got.

* * *

"Buffy! Giles is cooking actual food. Xander and Anya are on the way over! Buffy!" Dawn bellowed.

Buffy's eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, but found her body pinned to the bed by a pale muscular arm. Her eyes flew to the sleeping vampire beside her as Dawn's voice drew closer.

He'd stayed with her all night. The Slayer inside her panicked. What they did was alright when it was dark. They could lean on each other until the sun came up. But, by morning, he was gone…he had to be gone. Their nighttime alliance never bled over into her daytime,  _human,_ world.

"Spike!" she shook his shoulder until his eyes peeled open.

He flashed her a lazy smile, "Mornin' Luv." He took in the bright sunlight hiding behind the sheer curtains. His eyes twinkling with amusement. "Guess I overslept."

 _You did this on purpose, evil vampire._ "Yeah, kinda noticed." Buffy said already out of bed and pulling him up by the arm that had previously been wrapped around her waist. "Don't take this the wrong way but—hide!"

"Buffy!" Dawn yelled, now just outside the bedroom door.

"Bloody Hell!" Spike cursed. He got up and dove behind the closet door just as Dawn stepped into the room.

"Buffy? Did you hear me? Everyone's gathering for a 'Welcome home Giles' brunch…" Dawn's eyes widened at her sister's rumpled appearance. "—And I totally woke you up. I'm a terrible sister. I'm sorry. I figured you'd be up by now…it's 11."

Buffy smoothed her hair down and folded her arms across her chest. "No big. I just overslept. I had a rough night."

Dawn walked over to her sister. "I thought I heard something last night. Are you sick?"

"No, just something I ate." Buffy shrugged.

Dawn's eyes locked on Buffy's vanity chair. Where Spike's duster was practically glowing in the sunlight.

Buffy noticed and leapt up to distract the nosy teenager. "So, brunch!" Buffy rubbed her hands together.

No luck. Dawn walked over and picked up the leather coat. "Why is Spike's duster here?"

Buffy cast about for a good lie. "Um…he forgot it…after patrol."

Dawn's eyes narrowed, "He forgot it in your bedroom?"

"No, I was cold…and Spike let me borrow it. Then, I forgot and I wore it home." Buffy yanked the coat back and shoved it out of sight under the vanity.  _Out of sight, out of mind._  "Was that the door?" Buffy stammered as she marched past Dawn and out of the room. "I'm sure I heard the door."

Dawn waited until her sister was out of sight before she turned to the closet. "You can come out now Spike." She said.

The vampire slowly slipped out of the closet doing his best impression of an innocent visitor. "Nibblet…fancy seeing you here."

Dawn rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. "Nice try Spike. I know you stayed here. I heard you talking to her in the bathroom last night."

Spike dropped the act, "Alright, you caught me…but I swear it was innocent." He raked his hands through his sleep-mussed hair. "Big sis just needs someone to talk to."

"I never said it wasn't innocent." Dawn said, arching a brow. "Personally, I'm all for you and Buffy, making with the  _comfort_ —"

"Bit!" Spike growled.

"Just don't let the others catch you." Dawn flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned toward the door. "Brunch is almost ready. You coming?"

Spike simply reattached his jaw to his face and followed the younger Summers girl.

* * *

Giles was in the kitchen tending to the eggs on the stove when Buffy strolled in. His breath caught in his throat when she smiled at him, with the sunlight reflecting off the gold in her hair.  _Like an Angel_.

He found these moments coming far too frequently. Everything seemed normal—or as normal as Sunnydale ever was. Then, he saw the girl he considered to be his daughter smiling at him and he was filled with love, awe…and shame.

She was a miracle. There was no question there. But, a miracle that came at a high price. A price they would soon have to pay—Giles just wasn't sure how. If he had done is job, protected her as a watcher should, there would be no price. She would never have had to live through Hell.

"Hello, watcher mine. You in there?" Buffy waved a hand in front of Giles' face.

Giles shook off his morbid thoughts and turned back to the eggs. "Sorry, just thinking. How are you feeling today?"

Buffy shrugged, "Can't complain. So, what's with the chef act?"

"We—Dawn and I—thought it would be nice to spend the morning together doing non-research activities. Get us all reacclimated."

"Uh-huh." Buffy said skeptically, but she decided to let it go.

"Make yourself useful and set the table please." Giles said with mock-sternness.

Buffy rolled her eyes even as she smiled at her Watcher, "Geez, England made you a grump." She grabbed a stack of plates and playfully nudged Giles with her shoulder on her way into the dining room.

The front door swung open. "Afternoon Summers house!" Xander said cheerfully as he entered with Anya in tow. He carried the grocery bag in his hands to the kitchen.

"We contributed to this breakfast-lunch hybrid by bringing orange juice and potato salad." Anya said frankly.

"Ooh…juice!" Buffy exclaimed. She yanked the bottle from Xander and took it to the table.

"Can we help with anything?" Tara asked as she and Willow also piled into the kitchen.

Giles shut off the stove. "For heaven's sake will you all just go into the dining room. The food's ready."

* * *

Everyone took their seats at the table, leaving a space beside Buffy for Dawn. Xander smiled at the spread of food on the table. "I vote on this brunch thing becoming a more frequent Scooby tradition…Spike?"

Dawn and the vampire entered the now silent dining room.

"Hello all." Spike greeted.

Giles was the first to speak. "Spike…we didn't hear you come in." His voice was a mixture of ice and english manners.

Spike scratched his head and shrugged, "Well, I just slipped in. Stealthy vampire here." He caught Buffy's eye and the Slayer quickly blushed and looked down at her plate.

Dawn caught the quick exchange and grinned. "Spike you sit by Buffy. I'll go grab another chair."

"Evil dead is staying for Brunch?" Xander said. "Since when is he included in Scooby Brunch?"

Anya patted her secret-fiancee's hand, "Relax sweetie, there will be enough food to go around."

"Besides, Whelp doesn't look like you've been skipping any meals." Spike took his seat beside Buffy. He glanced at her, but she still refused to look up.

Dawn pulled a chair up on the other side of her sister. The brunch commenced with pleasant conversation, mixed with Xander and Spike glaring back and forth.

"So Buff, any big plans for today?" Xander asked as he scooted his chair back.

Buffy nodded. "As a matter of fact I do. Today I am in full money making mode. These old pipes aren't going to repair themselves."

Spike looked at her, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He thought back to her comment about finances the previous night.  _Slayer shouldn't be out looking for some minimum wage gig. She's got enough on her shoulders as it is._

"I was kinda thinking we could buy some rafts and enjoy this new basement pool." Willow said hopefully. "We could start a new trend."

Buffy gave a weak smile. "It's not a bad idea…" she suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth and sprang up from the table. The Scoobies listened as her footsteps raced up the stairs. They heard the bathroom door slam shut.


	4. Got a Bloody Lot of Time

**Ch. 4**

**Got a Bloody Lot of Time**

Giles shut the cash register and shut off the light on the desk of the Magic Box. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his tired eyes. His mind was on his Slayer. Her first day as a part-time Magic Box employee had not gone well at all.

It seemed she was not cut out for retail. Giles was beginning to wonder what she  _was_ cut out for besides killing…and he couldn't help but feel that it was his fault.

It wasn't fair. The chosen one shouldn't have to worry about money and day jobs. Giles also knew that he couldn't keep babying her. She would never learn to be an adult until she was forced.

The Watcher sighed and fished in his pocket for his keys. He made his way toward the back door but stopped when he heard pages rustling in the loft, where he kept the contraband books.

He immediately scanned the shelves for a weapon. He settled for a ceremonial dagger that was just within reach. Giles held the intricate dagger close as he crept toward the loft. He took the ladder rung by rung.

When he pulled himself into the loft a loose board creaked beneath his feet. He cringed and the rustling noise stopped. The intruder heard him. Giles gave up his attempts to be stealthy.

"Show yourself." The Watcher called out.

"Relax Watcher, it's just me." A deeper English voice answered back.

"Spike?"

The vampire stepped out of the shadows, a heavy tome in his hands, "Yeah, you caught me."

Giles huffed, willing his nerves to relax. "What are you doing up here in the dark? Here to pilfer more Burba Weed? Yes, I know about that…" Giles noticed the book, "That's not for sale."

Spike rolled his eyes, "Wasn't gonna nick it. I was researching."

Giles ripped the book from the vampire's hands "What could you possibly need to find in— _Resurrections—_ " Giles trailed off. They both knew what this book did…what it was responsible for. "Explain yourself before I put this dagger to use."

"I was researching the spell Willow used to bring Buffy back." Spike said simply. "Slayer's sick…been puking her guts out regular like for almost a week." Spike began an agitated pacing around the loft, "I mean what do we know about that spell? Can we be sure she came back with a clean bill of health?"

Giles face grew concerned. He truly hadn't considered those type of ramifications to Willows reckless spell. "You believe Buffy's apparent illness could be a side effect?"

"Well I don't know do I? S'why I was nosing about in your private library."

Giles turned and climbed back down the ladder with the spell book under his arm. "Well, I do appreciate your thoughts on this…but I'll take over research from here. We won't be needing anymore assistance from you."

Spike pursed his lips and stomped toward the door. "There's the stuffy English Prig I remember." Spike ripped the door open, "Just find out before she dies a second time." He slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Buffy propped herself up on a low headstone and swung her legs. Her first week back to regular slaying, and already patrol had been slow.  _Pent up energy and nothing to kill make Buffy a grumpy Slayer._ At least she'd managed to keep her lunch down, that was something.

Nothing like vomiting on a vampire's shoes right before you jab a stake through his heart to bolster your dignity. Speaking of vampires…where was Spike? After she'd gotten sick at Brunch, she'd come back downstairs to find Spike absent and Xander wearing a smug smirk. There was a story there, one she'd have to remember to find out about tomorrow.

She heard scratching sounds behind her. Buffy's face lit up. A newly risen vampire…finally. She crouched down near the hand that was just clawing its way out of the earth and waited…

…And waited.  _Geez, could he maybe hurry it up? I mean, speaking from experience, it does not take that long to crawl out of a grave._

A head appeared attached to the vamp's upper body—a young man with a mop of brown hair and a troubled look in his eyes. He noticed the blonde woman crouched beside him.

"Morning Sunshine!" Buffy chirped. She thrust her stake forward and caught his heart. The vamp burst into a cloud of ash before he could even utter a word.

Buffy frowned.  _Well that was anti-climactic._ She briefly thought of Anya's suggestion to start charging people for slaying as a way to pay her bills. Too bad vamp's weren't often buried with their wallets…she could always rob them  _before_  she killed them.

"Buggering bloody Watcher, thinks he knows everything…"

Buffy stood and brushed herself off when she heard the familiar baritone of Spike's voice coming toward her.

His ranting came to an end when he noticed Buffy. "Slayer? What are you doing out here Luv?"

Buffy planted her hands on her hips. "My job Spike. I'm the Slayer…remember?"

Spike tilted his head and quirked a dark brow, "Ha bloody ha. I meant, what are you doing out here in your condition?"

"My condition?" She bristled in offense.

"You're sick Buffy…or have you forgotten your recent trips to the loo?"

Buffy turned to walk away. "Not you too. I'm fine. It's probably just a stomach bug."

Spike fell into step beside her.  _No use arguing with her. Best just tag along and keep her safe._

* * *

They walked along in comfortable silence through the cemetery. Finally, the Slayer turned to her new companion vamp. "So, what happened with you and Giles? I heard you ranting earlier."

"Nothing to worry your pretty head about. Watcher and I just not seeing eye to eye on some things."

Spike was glad for the three vamps that stumbled upon them then. A welcome distraction. Buffy sprang into action, attacking the biggest first. Spike hung back to watch his girl in action.

He loved the way she moved, her body twisting and turning through the air. She was a warrior, fierce and feminine.

It wasn't until one of the vamps, wearing a surprisingly nice suit, had Buffy pinned to the side of a nearby crypt that Spike decided to intervene. He ran up behind them and staked the suit from behind.

His hands shot out and caught Buffy's waist before she tumbled to the ground. Their eyes locked. Spike relished the feel of her bare waist beneath his fingertips, where her blouse had been pushed up in the fight. He hadn't meant this to be sensual…he was just trying to help her—but it was too late.  _Now, what to do about it._

His eyes moved to her lips, just slightly parted. He remembered the last time he'd felt them, moving beneath his.

_"I know I'm a monster, but you treat me like a man."_

Some magnetic force pulled them closer…that had to be it, because they were both powerless to stop it. Their lips were only centimeters apart when her eyes went wide.

"Spike, look out!" Buffy screeched. She shoved him out of the way just in time as the two remaining vampire's came up from behind.

Buffy reached up and banged their skulls together. The vamps toppled to the ground.

"Slayer!" Spike tossed a stake to her. She caught it with practiced precision and plunged it quickly into each of the vamps.

She wrinkled her nose at the pile of dust that accumulated on her black boots. "Always when I wear new boots." She pouted.

Spike lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag. He fell into step beside Buffy. "So, how'd the job searching go today?" Spike asked. He wanted to ask about their almost kiss, but he knew she wasn't ready.

Buffy shrugged, "Not so good. Turns out I'm not cut out for construction work, school, or retail." Her face fell.

Spike reached out and squeezed her hand. It was impulsive, he knew it, but he couldn't control his body when she was near. "Luv, you're not a school girl…not a shop girl either. You're too good for that. You're the bloody Slayer, the Power's chosen warrior. Why are you worrying about a job anyway?"

To Spike's delight, Buffy threaded her fingers through his. "The bills won't pay themselves Spike. I may be the chosen one, but I'm also a human adult…and human adult's work for a living."

"I could help you."

Buffy stopped walking. Her eyes locked on those crystal blues. "I know you mean well, but I have to do this myself." She resumed her slow pace, pulling him along by the hand. "Besides, I can't take your gambling money…it's not kosher."

Spike yanked his hand back and clenched his jaw. "Right, you need money worse than the Whelp needs doughnuts…just not  _my_ money. S'not good enough for you. If it was Angel's money—" He was cut off by Buffy's fist colliding with his nose.

Her eyes were wide. Half of her couldn't believe what she'd just done and the other half was seething. "Where did that even come from?" Buffy said, "Don't drag him into this—that has  _nothing_  to do with…" Buffy took a deep breathe. "You know what, forget it. You're right, Spike. I don't need your help."

Buffy stomped off toward Revello Drive without a single glance back.

* * *

Even from the porch Buffy could smell something burning. She quickly stomped up the stairs and through the front door. The smell was coming from the kitchen.

"What's burning?" Buffy asked holding down the gag rising in her throat.

Dawn looked up from the table where she, Willow and Tara were playing cards. "Hi, Buffy. How was patrol? You and Spike run into any beasties?" Dawn gave her sister a teasing smirk.

"Did you burn something?" Buffy asked.

Dawn shrugged. "I made grilled cheese for lunch and one of them got a little charred, but that was hours ago."

"Huh." Buffy wrinkled her nose.

"Are you feeling better?" Willow asked noticing Buffy's disgusted face.

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, just a little bug…Giles isn't back yet?"

"He was working late at the Magic Box. He called about an hour ago." Said Tara.

Buffy remembered Spike's rambling about he and Giles having an argument. Had it been at the Magic Box? Whatever it was, it was important enough for Giles to still be working.

"Want to play?" Dawn asked eagerly.

Buffy wanted to say no, but her sisters face was so hopeful. She sighed and forced a smile. "Sure, what's the game?"

"Poker!" Dawn grinned. "Spike taught me."

"I'll bet he did." Buffy grumbled as she sat down with her family.

* * *

"Look, I'm going to head up to bed."

The Slayer said goodnight and headed up the stairs, eager to be far away from the smelly kitchen. One more round of Poker and she'd have been throwing up right there on top of the cards.

In her room, Buffy sat on her bed and glared at the window. Should she lock it? Did she really want to lock Spike out? Truthfully, she wasn't even mad at him. The punch had been a reaction to hearing Angel's name.  _Nothing at all to do with the fact that he hasn't called yet. He knows I'm alive…and he can't even manage a phone call._

It wasn't fair to take that out on Spike, but she wasn't going to apologize…the bleached menace was being a jerk. Besides, what were a few punches between mortal enemies.

Should she leave the window open? That way, if Spike came by, he would see he was still welcome. Would that look too much like an apology? Closed, but unlocked…that was her final decision.

"You look like you're thinking awful hard about something, Luv." Said the familiar British accent behind her. Spike was leaning in the doorway. His duster was already off, giving her a nice view of his lean body stretched out along the door frame. He didn't look at all smug. In fact, he seemed a bit unsure.

Buffy ignored him and climbed under the covers. "I didn't hear you come in."

Spike shrugged. "Wasn't sure I'd be welcome."

"Who let you in? Did they see you come up here?" Buffy panicked.

Spike chuckled and pushed off the door to walk into the room. "Relax Slayer, Bit let me in. She knows I sit with you at night. She won't tell anyone."

Buffy bolted up in bed, "Dawn knows? Since when?" She jabbed an accusing finger in his direction. "You told her, didn't you?"

Spike's eyes became angry slits, "What's the matter pet? Don't want them clued in to your dirty secret. I'm good enough to hold you while you sleep…so long as no one ever knows about it."

"Of course no one can know! Spike, they wouldn't understand. They are barely getting used to me being here…let's not send them into full on shock." Buffy flopped back against the pillows. "One surprise at a time."

"So, you do plan on telling them eventually?" Spike asked studying her face for an subtle reactions. Any clues.

Buffy shrugged. "There's nothing to tell. They don't need to know that you hang out with me at night. It's not like we are together or anything…I mean they know we're sort of friends."

Spike tilted his head and gave her a suggestive leer, "Is that what we are pet?  _Friends_?" He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his black jeans and slunk toward the bed, "You always drag your friends up to your room and have your way with them before the big battles? That why Harris is so jealous of any man who comes near you?"

Buffy sat up again, her hands balled into tight fists. "I told you that night didn't mean what you seem to think it meant."

"Ah…but you said it meant  _something_."

"That was before." Buffy said, her voice going hollow and her eyes far away.

Spike could tell he was losing her. He was close to getting some actual emotion out of her…but she was quickly retreating back behind her walls. Anger was at least a step in the right direction.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to the Slayer. "Buffy, I don't want to fight with you. Just want to know where I stand s'all. You're right, that night did mean a lot to me…because for that brief moment I had you. You're inside me Slayer. In my veins." Spike picked at the black polish on his nails. "Told you before, I crave you. It was torture you know? Getting to taste you…then, having you ripped away. Would have been one thing if I had you and the next day you told me to forget it—at least you would've been here, near, if untouchable."

"But to have you, taste you, love you…and then watch your body be put in the ground…." Spike trailed off, his voce threatening to crack under his heavy emotions. "I've experienced pain in my long life pet…but nothing will ever top that."

He felt her hand settle on his shoulder. "Spike…"

He shook off the pain, and straightened his back. "Apologies, Luv. Just my way of saying I'm glad to have you back." He turned to face her only to have her lips gently brush against his.

The kiss was soft, and not meant to go further than this…and it was new. This wasn't this kisses they'd shared under the spell. It wasn't the frantic kisses before the battle. Spike couldn't name it, but it was new and full of promise.

Too soon, the warmth of Buffy's lips was gone. The slayer crawled back under the covers, holding the corner up for Spike.

"It's not nothing…but I can't give you an answer yet. I need time."

Spike crawled in bed beside his Slayer and wrapped his arms around her. "I've got time, pet. Got a bloody lot of time."

* * *

Giles quietly slipped into his temporary home. Assuming everyone would be asleep at this hour, he slipped into the living room quietly. He was surprised to find Willow sitting in the armchair reading from a sociology text.

"Willow? What are you doing still awake?" Giles asked.

Willow set her book aside "Oh, just studying…why do you have  _that?"_ she said as she noticed the heavy spell book tucked under Giles' arm.

Giles sat on the couch. He set the book on the coffee table—between them. "Oddly enough, I caught Spike looking at it at the Magic Box. He seems to think Buffy's recent stomach virus may be a side effect of the spell that was used…"

Willow's voice came out harsh, "And you believe him? Giles, I know it was dangerous but I knew what I was doing—I  _know_  what I'm doing."

Giles sighed, and removed his glasses to rub his tired eyes. "I didn't see anything concerning. The spell seems straightforward enough. ' _Dead cells reanimated. Life given back to decaying flesh. The dead shall rise in human form.'_ It doesn't seem to mention any side effects."

Willow smiled, satisfied with her work, even if Giles wasn't.

Then, Giles continued. "Although, it mentions the possibility of a price to be paid. Something in exchange for the new life."

Willow shrugged. "If there was some dire consequence in store for us, wouldn't we have noticed it by now?"

Giles replaced his glasses, "I suppose your right. Just the same, I'm going to keep looking into it."

Willow got up and gave him a curt nod. "Well, I won't get in your way then." With that the red witch stomped up the stairs, and when she reached the landing, she could've sworn she saw Buffy's door swing shut…


	5. Happy Halloween (Part 1)

**Ch. 5**

**Happy Halloween**

**Pt. 1**

At midday, Spike sat on the couch in the Summers' living room. He'd snuck in after the Summers girls and the Wiccas had taken off to help at the Magic Box. He sat on the couch, staring at the the evil white-plastic contraption resting on the end table next to the lamp…the diabolical telephone.

He'd been frozen in this staring contest for nearly an hour. He was dreading this phone call. Come to think of it,  _dreading_  might not have be a strong enough word.

Buffy was having money troubles…and Spike had a simple solution. Well, a simple solution that involved contacting his grandsire. That was never high on his list of enjoyable activities.

The clock struck one o'clock. With a heavy sigh and a shaky hand, Spike snatched up the receiver and dialed L.A.

_"Angel Investigations! We help the helpless."_

Spike rolled his eyes. He hadn't even spoken to the Grand Poof yet and he was already queasy. "Yeah, I need to speak to Angel. Tell him it's his Grandchilde."

Spike heard scuffling on the other end followed by Angel's growling voice.

 _"Spike."_ He said succinctly _. "What do you want?"_

"Good to hear from you too Gramps." Spike teased. "How's Los Angeles?"

_"It's none of your business that's how. What. Do. You. Want?"_

Spike could just imagine the great brooding pout taking over Captain Forehead's face. The wrinkled forehead beneath all that hair product. "I need access to my money." Spike said casually. "All of it."

_"What for? Last I heard, you enjoyed scrounging for food in the gutter."_

"People change."

_"Not you."_

"Look Gramps, I'm on the straight and narrow now. Started with the chip, but now I find it suits me. I'm ready to get my affairs in order, so to speak-Tired of having to run to you when I need something. Lookin' to become all respectable like."  _God I sound like a wanker. Next thing you know I'll be in a business suit driving a sensible car._

There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Finally, Angel said,  _"Look, it's your money. I could care less what you do with it. I'll be more than happy to get it off my hands. Just don't come looking for handouts when you squander it on booze."_

"Right. Well, you have my account numbers." Spike almost hung up the phone, but a wayward thought popped into his head, "Angel?" He said, knowing his use of his Grandsire's given name would get his attention, "While I've got you on the phone…I've got a question for you…a favor of sorts."

 _"I'm listening."_ Angel said patiently.

"You ever heard of a witch bringing someone back to life…Successful Resurrection Spells?"

_"Yeah, one quite recently in fact, in your hometown. Where are you going with this?"_

"I meant  _other than_  Buffy. Has it been done before?"

Angel sounded skeptical. Spike really couldn't blame him.  _"Not the sort of thing I keep tabs ?"_

"Look, you've got resources I don't have. Could you check into it…just see if there's any previous incidents."

_"If there's something I need to know—"_

"Don't get your feathers ruffled. Just my own personal curiosity."

_"I'll see what I can do."_

The line went dead.

Spike nodded to himself. That had gone well…better than expected really. With any luck, Captain Forehead would be able to turn up some information in a few days and Spike would be on his way to figuring out what was up with his Slayer. If Giles wasn't going to be of any help, Spike could handle it on his own.

* * *

"Happy Halloween…mwahahahahaha!"

Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust at the tacky-dime-store talking Jack-o-lantern near the cash register—courtesy of a certain ex-Vengeance Demon.

She'd only been helping out with the Halloween rush at the Magic Box for a few hours or so, but it felt like the afternoon that wouldn't end. She was getting dangerously close to slaying the Jack-o-lantern.

Anya skated by in red hot pants that could've easily passed for underwear. "Buffy, we're running low on Mandrake Root. Check the basement."

 _An excuse to get away from the hordes of shoppers? Yes please!_  Crowds and Buffy were still un-mixy things. Buffy happily trotted through the store and down the back stairs.

The Slayer turned the corner and came face to face with Spike. She jumped in surprise, then rolled her eyes at the vampire, who always managed to crop up the moment she was alone. "Bell…neck…look into it."

Spike lowered his voice to a seductive purr, "Come with a nice leather collar does it?"

Buffy ignored the comment…and her body's reaction to it.  _I do not find Spike seductive…not one teensy bit._ "What are you doing lurking down here?"

Spike sighed and returned his voice to its normal baritone, "Came through the tunnels. Running low on Burba Weed." Spike held up what appeared to be a stringy brown yarn ball. "I stir it in with the blood. Makes it all hot and spicy."

Buffy set the box she was carrying on a table, giving him a skeptical arched brow.

"What?" Spike asked, offended. "I was gonna pay for it."  _Got plenty of money,_ Spike thought.  _Not that she needs to know that yet._ At her suspicious glare, Spike decided to cover his tracks.  _"_ I mean no…I was gonna nick it cuz that's what I do. I go where I please and I take what I want."  _Don't you forget it, Luv._  "What's your excuse anyway? I thought you had it to the brim with customer disservice."

"One time deal to help out." Buffy said. She looked around the cluttered basement, suddenly remembering her reason for being there. "Where's the Mandrake Root?"

Spike didn't miss a beat. He'd spent way too much time in this basement.  _Thief,_  Buffy thought, though the thought amused rather than annoyed.

"Three to a jar" Spike said, plucking a glass jar from the shelf. "They tend to go a bit wonky if you jam them in too close." He took a step closer to her, close enough to touch. But, he didn't touch her, he just waited for her to make her move. The Slayer said she needed time, but that didn't mean Spike couldn't give her a few gentle nudges.

"Thanks." Buffy said accepting the jar. Her fingers grazed his cool ones, sending a pleasant chill up her arms and down her spine.

Spike noticed the change in her heartbeat and grinned to himself. He decided to push her a bit further. "Feel like a bit of the rough and tumble?"

"What?" she squeaked. Spike's smile widened.

"Me…you…" He said running his fingertips along the side of her face. Her eyes drifted closed. Mission accomplished. Spike stepped back with a smug grin. " _Patrolling_. Hello."

Buffy frowned at him. He was toying with her—and she was totally falling for it.  _Stupid perceptive vampire_. "Oh…um…" Buffy stuttered, "I should stay. Maybe tomorrow."

Spike shrugged. "We could pop up to the training room and spar…unless you're dying to get back to bagging bits and bobbles."

Buffy opened her mouth to object but she stopped herself. Why not? Sparring with Spike  _was_  a vast improvement over the Halloween Sale. "I'll go change." She said.

With one last look at his self assured smile, Buffy thought,  _Two can play at this game._ She sauntered up the stairs, making sure to sway her hips a bit more than usual.

* * *

The Vampire and the Slayer circled each other like tigers on the hunt.

"Come on Slayer, what are you waiting for? A written invitation?"

Buffy grinned, "Awful anxious aren't we  _Spikey_?"

Spike matched her grin with a leer of his own, tongue tucked behind his teeth. "Just enjoying the scenery, Luv. Wouldn't want this to be over too quickly…If memory serves, you like a bit of foreplay before—"

Buffy lunged, landing a punch square on his jaw. "You're a pig."

Spike just winked and wiped at the blood on his lip. He jumped toward her and they were off…

…Punches flew, with one of them making contact every so often. The fight wasn't violent but it was rough. Both knew they didn't need to hold back—even though neither wanted to really harm their partner.

Buffy threw Spike to the ground and pinned his arms with her knees. "I win."

Spike flipped them over with incredible speed. He rested on his elbows, his face only inches above hers. "Now, this feels familiar." He whispered.

Buffy squirmed, trying to escape, but he grabbed her wrists in one hand and held them over her head. He leaned down to whisper in her ear while his other hand ran along the side of her ribcage. "Come on Luv. I know you think about it. We were perfect together—imagine what we could do without the ticking clock."

He leaned down and kissed the space just below her ear. Spike felt her muscles weaken as her resolve crumbled. He released her wrists and continued to kiss the side of her neck.

Buffy whimpered in approval. Her hands threaded in his platinum curls.

"Buff…we're locking up."

At the sound of Dawn's voice, Buffy tossed Spike across the matt and sprang to her feet.

"Buffy?" Dawn asked, now moving further into the training room. "Oh, hey Spike."

"'Lo Nibblet." Spike said as he slowly got to his feet.

"We're closing up. Time to get to cleaning." Dawn said, her eyes moving back and forth between the powerful beings now standing as far apart as Buffy could manage.

"Right. Cleaning. I love cleaning." Buffy pulled Dawn out of the training room, not even bothering to see if Spike followed.

* * *

Buffy and Dawn re-entered the shop just in time to hear Xander say, "Everyone, I've got an announcement to make. We're getting married!" He took Anya's hand in his.

A chorus of mixed reactions came from the Scoobies, who were sprawled around the ransacked store like disaster victims.

"Oh my god!" Dawn exclaimed.

"That's…that's wow." Willow said, not sounding entirely pleased.

Spike watched his Slayer's slow reaction. She frowned, then moved to stand by Giles. Buffy leaned close to her Watcher and whispered, "Did you know about this?"

 _Oh, Luv._ Spike thought,  _She's just getting used to the fact that she died and the world kept turning. Gone for three months and everything changed. She feels left out…and this is bound to make it worse._

Spike's assumptions were correct. The Slayer plastered on a fake smile—which Spike saw right through—she went to the Whelp and Demon Girl and said her shallow congratulations.

Spike wasn't sure who suggested it…but shortly after the big announcement, the whole Scooby gang was gathered at the Summers' Residence on Revello Drive for an Engagement Party.

Spike hadn't been invited in the strictest sense, but the Slayer had given him a pleading look before she slipped out of the shop—coming from Buffy that was the closet thing to an offer he was going to get.

* * *

The Slayer was seated on the couch, watching her friends dance through the living room. The Scoobies looked good and distracted, so Spike decided it was safe to join Buffy.

"Can I get you something, Luv?" Spike asked.

Buffy's brow wrinkled in concentration as she pondered the question. "Actually…do we have any Root Beer?"

Spike's dark brow quirked, "Root Beer. That's a strange request Slayer."

Buffy's shoulders rose in a light shrug, "Sounded good." She mumbled, lips now set in a pout.

Spike chuckled. "I'll see what I can do."

The vampire glided into the kitchen. "Hey, one of you Wicca's feel like magicking up a Root Beer? Slayer's got a craving." He stopped and took in Willow and Tara's somber faces. The air in the kitchen was thicker than tar.  _What did I just walk into?_

"Root Beer?" Willow said, shooting Tara a glare, "Coming right up." The Red witch said a few gibberish words and a tall glass of bubbly brown materialized in her hand. She thrust the glass at Spike.

"Ta' Red." Spike said.

Willow fixed her eyes on Tara, "I live to serve." She said. Then, she stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Spike, Tara and a glass of Root Beer in awkward silence.

Spike approached the good witch cautiously. "Why the long face Glinda?"

Tara shook her head and flashed that warm smile of hers, the one that felt like being wrapped in a warm fluffy towel on a cold day. "It's nothing."

Spike let it go. He patted Tara's shoulder and together they went back to the party. Spike kept his silence, but he knew what the witches were arguing about. Willow's magic was getting out of hand—it had been out of hand since the moment she decided to bring Buffy back.

If Red only knew what she'd  _really_  done.

What Buffy would never tell her.

* * *

Spike handed the Root Beer to a grateful Slayer and plopped down on the couch beside her.

"Oh, wow…we actually had this? Go figure?" she sipped at her glass, closing her eyes and sighing as the liquid ran down her throat.

Spike watched her with a smile. Sometimes she seemed so innocent. He often forget how young she really was—a hard life had that effect on people.

The others gave up dancing and gathered around the living room. The conversation turned to Xander and Anya's future children. Spike could feel Buffy's nervous energy radiating off her.

She tapped her fingers on her soda glass. She bounced her left leg.

Spike leaned in and whispered. "Slayer, what say we ditch the Super Friends and do a quick sweep of the cemeteries?"

"Halloween is my night off Spike. You said it yourself—no respectable baddies come out on Halloween." Buffy said almost regretfully.

Dawn skipped toward the door, grabbing her purse from the peg on the wall. "See you guys tomorrow."

The Slayer sprang to her feet. "Excuse me?" Buffy said in her best mom-voice "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm sleeping over at Janice's…Remember?"

"That's tonight?" Buffy said.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "No, it's on the  _other_  Halloween. Come on, you said I could."

"I know…I did...it's just now, Xander's party."

"Oh, we're good." Xander said, slinging an arm around his fiancee. "But, you'll have to buy us some extra gifts for our reception."

"Yes please" Anya added.

Buffy opened and closed her mouth, in search of a good objection that wouldn't come. "I don't know…Giles?" she pleaded.

"It's really not up to me." Giles said.

Dawn stuck out her lower lip, a gesture eerily similar to the Slayer's trademark pout. "Come on, it's four blocks away. I'll walk straight over. Not like I'm going to be roaming the streets—Please."

Buffy dropped her shoulders in defeat. "Fine—just, be careful."

Dawn squealed and raced out the door. All the adults stood around, eyes darting from one to the next.

Buffy came to a decision. "Right well, Spike and I are going to go do a quick Patrol."

"I thought—" Spike began. Buffy shut him up by stomping on his Doc Martin. "Right…Patrol."

Xander, Anya and Willow had already drifted back to the living room, to preoccupied to care. Only Giles and Tara seemed to notice. Giles with narrowed eyes and Tara with a gentle smile.

"Bye guys." Buffy said quickly, yanking Spike out the door and slamming it behind them before Giles could object.

* * *

They fell into step beside one another, easily making their way down Revello Drive. Spike let his hands swing at his sides, brushing against the Slayers every few steps.

"So, the Whelp's gonna make an honest woman outta Demon Girl? Didn't see that coming." Spike said, breaking the silence between them.

"Tell me about it." Buffy said, "Xander's all grown up."

Spike raked a hand through his hair, "Well good for them." He was absolutely not imagining Buffy in white gown, sunlight streaking her golden hair. Absolutely not.

"Yeah. It's good…it's the way life's supposed to work out." Buffy said faintly. She paused and pinched the bridge of her nose, squinting for a moment before blinking her eyes open.

Spike spun to face her, "Alright Pet?"

"Yeah, just got dizzy for a sec." Buffy shook her head and continued walking. "All better."

Spike had to jog to catch up to her. "Slayer, hold up." Spike ran around her and braced his hands on her narrow shoulders. "We don't need to patrol tonight. Like you said…it's your night off." Spike slid his hands from his shoulders, down her arms finally stopping to hold her hands. "Let me take you out—somewhere you can relax for a spell."

"I don't know." Buffy pulled at her lower lip, "What if something happens?"

Spike stepped even closer, peering down at her with his blue eyes, the moonlight reflecting on his pale skin. "It's only one night Buffy."

It was the way he said her name that did her in. Hearing her name in that husky accent made logical Buffy exit stage left. "Well, I guess one night can't hurt. I mean, I was dead for months and the world didn't end."

* * *

Giles hurried into the dark kitchen and scooped up the ringing telephone.

"Summers residence….Oh, Mrs. Penshaw…No, Dawn said she was staying the night at your house." Giles took a sip from his mug, lowering it slowly as the frantic woman on the phone prattled on about her missing daughter.

"Yes, I realize that now, but I don't believe that  _you_  called to check…No, right. Let's just…Right. If I hear anything I'll let you."

Giles hung up and headed into the living room, where Xander was still flailing around in his pirate costume.

The Watcher set his mug down and switched off the radio.

"Hey, we were just gettin' our dance on." Willow protested.

Giles removed his glasses. "That was Janice's mother on the telephone. Apparently, Janice said that she was staying here tonight."

Xander nodded in appreciation. "Ah dipping into the classics. Gotta respect that."

"Is Buffy still out patrolling?" Giles asked. The younger Scoobies nodded. "Right then. Xander. Anya. You stay here, in case Mrs. Penshaw calls again…Willow. Tara. You check Downtown…I'll stop by the cemetery see if I can catch up with Buffy and Spike."

* * *

A loud rock song was blaring from the stage. The bronze was packed to the seams with Sunnydale's youth—decked out in Halloween faire. Buffy realized, as she and Spike walked in, that this was her first trip to her old high-school-haunt since…Glory.

They waded through the throngs of Star Wars Characters and Action Heroes, and took a seat at a table near the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink, Luv?" Spike asked.

Buffy quirked an eyebrow, "Since when do you  _buy_  things."

"I have been known to pay for a drink, once in a blue moon…it's Halloween. Let it go."

"I'm still full from the Root Beer, but I appreciate the offer…I think." She wrinkled her nose in confusion.

Spike trotted off to get himself a beer and Buffy swept her eyes over the crowd. She and Spike were the only people not dressed up. It hadn't bothered her earlier, with her friends, but now she felt like the only christmas light not blinking.

She caught sight of her vampire escort through the crowd. She supposed that his everyday wear could pass as a costume. Maybe that's what it really was…a costume…to hide this other person she was slowly getting to know.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" Spike asked as he slid onto the chair beside her with his beer in hand.

"We don't have costumes." Buffy said.

"Well, I was never much for Halloween myself…I usually stay in and watch The Great Pumpkin."

Buffy cast a sideways glance to see if he was making fun of her, but his face was unreadable, his eyes roamed the crowd. "You know, you were a lot easier to talk to when you wanted to kill me."

"What was that Luv?" Buffy knew he heard her. He was a vampire for crying out loud. He could hear her heartbeat from down the street.

"Nothing." She said.  _Why did I come here with him? Could this possibly be more awkward? I wonder if he thinks this is a date._  With that alarming thought in mind, Buffy turned to him, ready to set the record straight. But, he was gone.

She frantically glanced around. She had no idea why his vanishing act bothered her, but it did. It wasn't like Spike to just disappear—especially not when he had the chance to be alone with her.

When she didn't spot him, she got up and made her way through the crowd. She walked passed the staircase and saw him returning from the balcony.

"What the hell Spike? Why'd you just disappear?"

Spike smiled, "Vampire—it's my thing. Why? You getting worried about little ol' me?"

Buffy folded her arms over her chest. "No. I was coming to make sure you weren't getting yourself beat up."

"Nothing of the sort Slayer." Spike held up his hand. Something black and sparkly was dangling from the black ribbon clenched in his fist. "For you." He said.

Without thought, her hands drifted out to touch the black sequins. It was a mask—the kind worn at Masquerades and Opera houses. The black sequined shape covered just one eye and cheek, and had a string of beads that dangled by the ear. It was beautiful—and obviously stolen.

She frowned and thrust it back at the vampire. "I can't believe you just stole this right off someone." Buffy shouted.

Spike's eyes narrowed and he snarled back at her. "For your information, I bought it. Saw a girl with it, thought it would look better on you, asked how much she wanted for it…end of story."

Buffy fixed her hands on her hips. "Oh, really…and she just gave it up."

"Didn't come cheap." Spike countered.

Buffy's ears perked up. "Really? How much?"Angry or not, she was a girl-and holding expensive gifts tends to make girls' brains cloudy.

"None of your damn business Slayer." Spike was still angry. The muscle on the side of his jaw twitched as he spoke. "Now are you going to wear it or not?"

Buffy looked at the beautiful mask in her hands. Just for one night, she could pretend to be someone other than Buffy. That was allowed right? Slowly, she brought the silky fabric to her face and tied the ribbon.

She looked up at Spike, suddenly self-conscious. His eyes softened. He ran his thumb along her lower lip, left exposed by the mask. He took her chin between his fingers.

"I was right. It suits you much better than that ugly bint who had it."

"Gee, you have such a way with words." Buffy said sarcastically, causing Spike to chuckle.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor. "Come on Slayer, can't let that beautiful costume go to waste."


	6. Happy Halloween  (Part 2)

**Ch. 6:**

**Happy Halloween**

**Pt. 2**

"Do you think Dawn might've come here?" Tara asked over the noise of the crowd as her girlfriend led her through the Bronze.

Willow nodded with enthusiasm. "It's where I'd be if I were fifteen and on the lamb."

"Really?" Tara said skeptically.

"Well not  _me_  at fifteen, because hello, Spaz but…" Willow shrugged.

"You?"

"Yeah…hard to believe such a hot-momma-yamma came from humble, geek-infested roots." Willow said as she started up the staircase to the balcony.

Tara took her girlfriend's hand. "Infested roots? Trying to turn me on?"

Willow paused on the stairs, casting a sidelong galnce at her girlfriend.. "I have to try now?"

Tara just smiled and leaned up to kiss the red head. They shared a brief loving glance before Willow set back to her search.

"Come on, let's look over here" Willow rushed over to the railing of the balcony where they could look out over the crowd below. Tara slipped beside her.

The witches looked down at the crowded dance floor. Tara's eyes immediately fell upon a blonde couple in the crowd. The lean man with the platinum hair was unmistakably Spike. The girl was wearing a mask over half of her face, but it didn't take long for Tara to be certain it was in fact the Slayer.

Tara smiled. She'd noticed some subtle sparks between the two—their auras were becoming more and more alike—now, she could clearly see the bond forming. It wouldn't be long before the others began to pick up on the changes.

Tara's eyes darted to Willow at her side. Willow was still frantically looking around for Dawn.  _Good, she didn't see them_. Tara wasn't sure what the other Scoobie's reactions would be to Buffy and Spike, but she felt it was their decision if and when to tell them. At this point, she wasn't sure there was anything to tell…although she suspected there was.

Tara returned to the task at hand. She had to find away to get to Buffy and Spike and tell them about Dawn before Willow noticed. "Do you see her?" Tara asked.

"No there's too many people"

Tara pointed at a security guard stationed on the back of the balcony. "Maybe we could ask security to—"

Willow cut her off, not even willing to hear her suggestion. "No, that will take too long."

Willow clutched the railing and focused her energy. "One among many—many fade to one."

Tara's mouth fell open.  _Was Willow really about to do a spell, right here, in front of all these people?_ "What are you doing?" Tara put a hand on Willow's arm, "Will?"

"I'm just going to clear the crowd."

"How?"

"I'll just shift everyone who isn't a fifteen-year-old girl into an alternate dimension" Willow said, as if it was the most logical solution.

"What?" Tara said, a mix of hurt and outrage.

Willow rushed to reassure her. "No, it'll be for like a fraction of a section. They won't even notice."

Tara frowned, "Will, no. You can't."

"Why?"

"What if something went wrong?" Thoughts of Buffy's resurrection filled Tara's mind.

"It won't" Willow insisted.

"What would Giles say?" Tara knew it was a weak point, put it was all she had.

Willow huffed. " _S'h—cut!_ " She spat, silencing the air around them. All that could be heard throughout the packed club were her's and Tara's voices. Willow rounded on her girlfriend. "Are you taking his side now?"

Tara sighed, "This isn't about sides."

"You two have been talking about me behind my back." Willow folded her arms.

"No. God!" Tara said.

"You  _know_ how that makes me feel."

Tara's face fell. There was no way around this conversation. She'd been keeping her peace for weeks—but it was time. "Willow, you are using too much magic. What do you want me to do? Just sit back and keep my mouth shut?"

Willow's eyes narrowed and a voice Tara didn't recognize came out of her. "Well, that would be a good start."

"If I didn't love you so damn much I would." Tara fled. She heard the crowd return to full volume. Heard Willow calling her name, but she forged ahead. She had to get to Buffy and Spike. Dawn was in danger, and Willow could wait.

* * *

Buffy was surprised by how easily she fell into dancing with Spike. The music swelled, their bodies moved—they complimented one another. For a brief moment, she forgot who they were…where they were…there was only the music and their bodies.

When the music morphed into a slower tempo, Spike pulled the Slayer against him, giving her no chance to escape the inevitable. To his relief, she didn't put up any struggle.

Buffy relaxed against his chest, with her head tucked under his chin. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her back. When he felt her sigh and bury her hands in the front of his shirt, he gave his hands free reign to clutch her body close.

The music seemed to fade away. Buffy couldn't hear anything but Spike's breathing and her own. The silence was peaceful. Buffy lifted her head so they could look into each other's eyes. She smiled at him, and that was all that needed to be said.

Spike ran his thumb once again along Buffy's bottom lip. Her mouth parted slightly. His eyes focused on her lips as her's did the same. Buffy's pulse quickened.  _Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me…kinda…okay yes. Besides, I'm not Buffy for tonight. I'm in disguise._

With a jolt of courage, Buffy rose up and met him half-way. It was a soft brush of flesh and it ended before it began. Buffy felt someone tap her shoulder, and she sprang away from Spike—missing Spike's frown as she did so.

"Tara?" She turned and saw the witch standing right behind them. Buffy immediately stumbled over her words, trying to explain. "Um…this is not what it looks like—we. Spike and I—"  _So much for disguises._ Tara's eyebrow rose, as the Slayer continued to babble. In desperation, Buffy spun to spike and punched his shoulder—not hard enough to hurt him. "Watch the hands buddy." She said, feigning anger, even while her green eyes pleaded with Spike to play along.

Spike adopted a put upon expression, but said, "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Luv. My hands have mind of their own—sneaky buggers."

"As long as they are far from me." Buffy spun to Tara with a forced smile. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for Dawn actually." Tara said.

Buffy's eyes popped out, suddenly terrified, "Dawn?"

Tara held her hands up to calm the Slayer, "No, she's okay…it's just…we don't exactly know  _where_  she's okay."

Buffy clenched her hands into powerful fists. "I'm going to ground her for the rest of her existence." She shouted, "Come on Spike." Then pushed her way off the dance floor and out of The Bronze.

* * *

Willow intercepted them in the parking lot. "Buffy? Spike? What are you—"

"We've already heard Red…Glinda got us up to speed." Spike said with a grateful nod to Tara.

Spike and the Witches jogged ahead to catch up with Buffy who was striding with angry purpose away from the Bronze.

"Oh." Said Willow, "Well good thing Tara spotted you." She cast a warm smile at her girlfriend, hoping the praise would smooth the waters between them. But, Tara kept her eyes ahead.

Spike glanced back and forth between the Wiccas and raised his eyebrow.  _Something's off there. Best find out what, once Dawn's safe and sound._

"Giles said he'd search the cemeteries—he was hoping to catch up with you. Xander and Anya are at your house, in case Dawnie comes home." Willow said, taking her rightful place beside Buffy. After all,  _she_ was the slayers best friend, she deserved to be at her side…rather than someone evil like Spike.

Buffy gave a silent nod. She said nothing, but she turned and headed in the direction of Restfield Cemetery. When they heard the wail of sirens coming from up ahead, they all picked up their pace. The group paused as the huge wrought iron cemetery gates came into view.

Restfield's entrance was swarming with police and paramedics. The men in blue and white uniforms wove their way around several ambulances, with their flashing lights casting blue and red spotlights across the grass.

Several paramedics walked by with a body on a stretcher—a small lump in a white sheet. Meanwhile a second group carried a heavy body bag. Buffy tried to rush closer, but Spike held her back. When she glared at him, he pointed to his ears and mouthed ' _Vampire Pet'._

Spike focused on the scene up ahead, listening for any scrap of information his vampiric senses could glean.

"So far they found two victims. One, male—age unidentifiable-He's the one in the body bag." Spike said to the group, "The other is a female, teenage…"

That was all Buffy stayed to hear. The Slayer took off running toward the crowd—trying desperately to catch a glimpse of the girl on the stretcher before they could cart her into the ambulance. Buffy's mind replayed one word— _Dawn_ —on a loop.

"Miss, this is a restricted area. Are you family?" A paramedic held a hand up to stop Buffy's approach.

"Well, I don't know, do I? Unless you let me see her."

The man shook his head, "I'm sorry Miss. Unless your fam—" Buffy shoved the man out of her way. He emitted a string of ' _Stop hers!'_ and ' _Restricted Areas!'_  but Buffy paid him no mind.

She fought her way through the throngs of confusion to the stretcher. Their, laid out before her, was a familiar face—but not Dawn's.

"Janice?" Buffy said, feeling a twinge of guilt at the obvious relief in her voice.

Dawn's best friend had a large square of gauze fixed over her neck. It was obvious from the red circle appearing in the center that she was bleeding badly.

When she heard Buffy's voice, Janice turned her red-rimmed eyes up. "Buffy, I—"

The slayer didn't even let her speak—she was interested in one thing only. "Where's Dawn?"

Janice shook her head, lower lip starting to tremble. "She ran off."

That was all the time they had. Janice was taken to the ambulance and Buffy was not-so-gently shoved away from the scene.

Spike and the witches caught up with the Slayer, all wearing matching looks of concern. They caught sight of Giles in the crowd and waved him over.

"Buffy. Spike. Thank Heaven, I was just looking for you."

"What happened?" Willow asked.

Giles shook his head, "From what I gather, Janice and a young man were attacked by something in the woods…they aren't saying much."

"Dawn's still in the Cemetery." Buffy said before turning to Spike. "Can you track her?" Spike nodded.

"Good. Lets go." With that the Slayer marched into Restfield, her loyal companions at her heels.

* * *

"Dawn!" Spike called out into the silent night. His call was echoed by four others. They'd combed through most of Restfeild and were reaching the edge—where everything became the woods. He'd picked up no traces of the youngest Summers.

He noticed Buffy pause and hold a hand to her stomach. If it were possible for human skin to change colors, Spike would've said Buffy's turned green.

He was at her side in one stride, placing has cool fingers at the base of her neck where it met the back of her collar. "We'll find her love." He rubbed his thumbs in soothing circles over her skin, "No need to make yourself sick with worry."

Buffy glared, "It's not that—you know what forget it. Just keep looking." She shoved off his hand and stomped away.

Spike's shoulders slumped, until Tara appeared at his side. He stood taller and puffed out his chest.  _No need for Glinda to see through the Big Bad._

"Spike?" she said meekly, "Isn't that your crypt?" Tara pointed to the large stone mausoleum up ahead.

"Yeah? What of it?"

"Do you think—would Dawn have gone there…to hide?"

Spike thought about it, even as his feet carried him toward the door. Nibblet was bright. If she were in danger in this area, she just might have known to hide there.

As soon as he reached the door, his senses were flooded with the sweet lemony fragrance that was unique to Dawn Summers.

"Buffy!" he yelled as he charged through the door. The others raced in behind him. "She's here, or she was."

To everyone's relief, the inside of the crypt looked like it always did—dusty and decorated with a hodgepodge of found items. There were no signs of a struggle.

"Dawnie?" Willow called out.

A head of dark hair appeared from the hole in the floor, that led to Spike's bedroom. "Buffy? Spike?"

"Dawn!" They all rushed to the young woman. Buffy inspected Dawn for any obvious wounds before crushing her sister in a hug. Then, the Slayer pulled back and frowned. "What were you thinking? You could've been hurt."

Dawn's eyes began to tear up, but she held her resolve in true Summers style.

Spike put a calming hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Slayer, let's save the lecture until we're all safe at Command Central, yeah?"

Buffy immediately argued. "Spike, I'm perfectly capable of—"

"Slayer, get the Bit and the others out of here." Spike could sense something off. A presence. Something was watching them, though he couldn't see it or sense where it was lurking. It made his chest hollow and his already cold skin feel like ice. All he knew, was that they all needed to get as far from there as possible.

Buffy sensed the urgency behind his words. She stood up and pulled Dawn to her feet. "Spike's right—you should get home." She turned to her Watcher, "Giles, take them home. Spike and I will check this out and meet up with you later."

Giles opened his mouth to protest but Buffy held up a hand. "Get where it's safe."

Willow and Tara cast a wary glance around the crypt and then nodded and inched back toward the door. Giles ushered Dawn after them.

"What do you feel?" Buffy asked, coming to stand beside the vampire, her voice hushed.

Spike gave one last glance around. A low growl emanated from his chest. "Somthin' here…can't tell where."

Buffy pulled a stake from the waistband of her jeans and began prowling through the shadows in Spike's wake.

They heard a man's laughter, deep and chilling. Both froze, looking everywhere at once, but not seeing anyone or anything.

The laughter faded into a voice that said, "Such a loyal group. The Slayer and her followers. I like the Red one myself. Don't be nervous sweet thing—It's not time yet. I've got big plans for you three."

Buffy rolled her eyes,  _they always have plans._ "Why don't you come out where I can see you and tell me all about your plans, face to face."

"Tell me Slayer, I'm curious, do those kind of threats usually work for you?"

"Does this scare tactic usually work for you?" Buffy countered.

The laughter came again, followed by, "Well, I'm as new to this world as you are. Can't really say." A breeze pushed by Spike and Buffy, rustling Buffy's hair and Spike's leather coat.

Spike's low growl grew louder.

"Down boy. I haven't forgotten you either." Said the voice. "Well, Slayer—it's been a pleasure…I'll be seeing you." At that, the breeze swept forward and the crypt door crashed open.

Buffy and Spike stared at the few leaves rustling on the stone floor, sweeping out to the graveyard beyond the crypt door—but saw no one.

* * *

Buffy and Spike spent the walk to Revello drive in silence. Neither had any idea what they'd just witnessed—although they were grateful they'd been together. Since they both heard it, neither of them was crazy. Right?

When they got to the Summers house, they found another surprise awaiting. There was a gaping hole where the front door should have been. The glass from the front window was shattered, with shards still sticking out of the frame like broken teeth.

"Dawn!" Spike said as he raced up the steps.

Buffy stopped to survey the damage, her nausea returning in full force. They had barely managed to scrape enough money together to fix the flooded basement. There was no way she could afford this.  _I wonder how long we could go without eating._  Buffy stuck out her lower lip. She had the urge to sit on the lawn and pound her fists against the grass—to just cry until it went away. She was quite tempted to give in.

"Buffy?" Spike's voice from the porch caught her attention. He was staring at her with that frustratingly compassionate expression he wore around her.

"Sorry." She said walking passed him into the house. Dawn met them in the entry way, much to Spike and Buffy's relief.

"I'm really sorry…" Dawn began.

Spike slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Later Bit." He whispered, nodding his head toward the Slayer. Buffy didn't appear to be in the mood to hear Dawn's confession.

Xander's voice bellowed from the living room. "Now you guys show up! Next time…you hold down the fort and we'll do the searching."

"Whelp is still alive—thank bloody God." Spike grumbled. He kicked at the shards of the front door, now decorating the foyer.

Buffy smiled up at the vampire. "Be nice." She said, brushing her hand against his before she joined everyone in the living room.

Buffy gave a weak smile to her friends who were gathered around the living room—which looked more like a battlefield at the moment. Giles was leaning against the mantle nursing a glass of something. Tara was seated in an armchair, with Willow standing a few feet away. Willow's eyes kept darting to Tara's armrest with longing, but the red head didn't move. Last of all, Xander was seated at the desk with Anya perched on his lap.

"So, not to be the queen of obvious questions here, but—what happened?" Buffy asked. She picked up a shard of what had been a coffee table and turned it over in her hands. With a huff and a frown, she tossed back into the heap.

"An excellent question." Xander said.

Buffy moved to sit beside Dawn on the couch, while Spike perched on the armrest beside the Slayer.

Anya began, "We were just sitting on the couch—enjoying having the house to ourselves…" Spike, Buffy and Dawn shot a glances at each other and stood up from said couch.

"Suddenly…BAM! The front door exploded and there was this voice, talking to us. It was bizarre." Said Anya. "We couldn't see anything, but there was something here. Demonic, I think—and I ought to know."

"We felt the same thing at the crypt." Spike agreed.

"Could it have been a ghost?" Dawn asked.

Anya shook her head. "No, ghosts are incorporeal—they can't touch anything."

"Tell that to my coffee table." Buffy said with a pout.

"So what then?" Willow asked, looking to Giles for the wisdom he never ceased to provide. "Do we know any invisible demons?"

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sure there's quite a few. I suggest we meet up in the morning and begin research. Tonight, let's all just get some rest."

Everyone nodded in agreement, except Buffy. "What about the boy who was with Janice?" She looked at her sister, "Did you see what happened to him?"

Dawn's cheeks turned pink. "No…I, um, wasn't with them by then…"

"So you went off into the cemetery alone?" Buffy's eyes narrowed.

Spike gave a wry smile, "Doesn't sound like she was alone Slayer."

The slayer's green eyes widened as that revelation became clear.

"Dawnie!" Willow said with a wink. "Anyone we know?"

Dawn ducked her head, "Just someone from school."

"Regardless, you are grounded." Buffy said, "You were supposed to be at Janice's. You lied."

Dawn nodded. "Yeah…sorry." Was all she said.

"We'll talk about it later." Buffy added.

Xander gently pushed Anya off his lap. He stood up and stretched his arms, letting out a big yawn. "Right…well, then we are going to go home to our safe—locked apartment. Magic Box…around 10 sound good?"

Giles nodded. "I'd see you to the door, but there isn't one."

"Sorry about the party." Buffy said.

Xander waved a hand in the air, "No big. Just practice for the wedding." He and Anya gave one last wave and made their way out.

Willow and Tara also said their goodnight's and headed upstairs. Even Giles left, saying he was planning to stay with a friend for the night until his apartment was ready in the morning.

Dawn, not wanting to be alone with Buffy, slipped upstairs, leaving Buffy and Spike alone to deal with the ruined house.

"We should hang a sheet over the window for now…and I can board up the door if you like. Be safer, until we can get it patched up."

Buffy didn't respond.

Spike turned to find the Slayer staring at the shards of the front door with the same hollow look she wore out of her grave.

"Luv?" Spike approached slowly, afraid to startle her.

"I can't do this. There's no more money, Spike. So, we fix the door this time…what happens tomorrow, when some new threat decides to take a bite out of my house? How did mom always manage this?"

"She managed 'cause she was a strong lady…and so are you." Spike placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's just a door Buffy."

Buffy shrugged, "Can make a whole new pile of stakes out of this." Buffy kicked at the wood, "That's a plus."

"There's always that." Spike smiled, happy she'd bounced right back.

Together they covered the window with a pink flowery sheet and boarded up the front door with a few of the larger pieces of wood. Then, they collapsed on the couch.

"Where's Willow's spells when you need them?" Buffy pouted, "You think I could get her to just magic up a front door."

Spike raked a hand through his curls and draped his arm along the back of the couch behind Buffy. "Don't think that's the best idea Buffy. Red's getting a bit carried away with the mojo. S'got Glinda lookin' a mite touchy."

"I know." Buffy sighed, "but just this once?"

"Buffy, I know you made it clear that you don't want my help…but I hope you reconsider." Spike gestured around the room, "I could have this all fixed this time tomorrow—If you'd just let me help."

To his surprise and relief, Buffy seemed to be considering it. After a long silence she said, "What if it was a loan? The bank wouldn't give me a loan, but you could. That way—I could pay you back. I wouldn't owe you anything…and I wouldn't have to feel guilty. William the Bloody Banking."

Spike sighed but nodded, "Alright Slayer, it's a loan then…whatever helps you sleep at night."

She smiled. "Good. Well, I'm going to bed." She jumped up and went to the stairs where she paused and said, "You coming?"


	7. Ch. 7:  Skinned

**Ch. 7:**

**Skinned**

_Buffy,_

_Hope the noise didn't wake you._

_See you later._

_Spike_

Buffy set the note down on the kitchen counter, unable to suppress a radiant smile.  _Who is this man and what has he done with the previous owner of the bleach blonde body he's inhabiting._

"We're all finished in here."

Buffy smiled at the contractor now standing in the kitchen doorway. He glanced at his clipboard and back at her, "Everything's all paid up so I just need a signature."

"Okie dokie." She happily skipped over to him and signed on the line.

"You have a nice day now…and maybe be more careful with your bike." The contractor grabbed his tool box and left.

Buffy stood in the doorway wearing a puzzled expression.  _My bike? What exactly did Spike tell him?_  Slowly, the smile crept back as Buffy imagined all the ridiculous things her vampire might've come up with. She shook her head in amusement and went back to the kitchen.

It was almost nine and she hadn't seen any traces of Dawn yet, which seemed odd. Dawn was usually the morning person, not Buffy.

Willow came down the stairs. She noticed the brand new front door and stopped in the entryway. "Wow, the house looks…good as new. Is there another witch around here besides me and Tara? Have you been holding out on me?"

Buffy popped her head around the corner and smiled. "Nope. Not unless the contractors of Sunnydale have come up with a new business strategy."

"How'd you swing that?" Willow asked, following Buffy back into the kitchen.

Buffy shrugged and turned away from her friend. "Oh…I got a loan."  _Well, that was mostly true. Willow doesn't need to know where the loan came from._

"The bank reconsidered?" Willow said, "Buffy that's great! Maybe now you can come back to school. You won't have to worry about some skeezy job at the Doublemeat."

"Slow down there." Buffy said, turning back to Willow, "It's not like all my problems are solved. It's a loan—meaning I do have to pay it back. Plus, I'm thinking Buffy and school don't belong in the same sentence…at least, not right now."

"Still, it's good news right?"

"Right." Buffy said, her thoughts suddenly jumping to a ruggedly handsome blonde, "definitely of the good."

"Well, I'm going to head over to the Magic Box."

Buffy shook her head free of vampy thoughts, "What about Tara?"

Willow's answer came a bit too quick, "Oh, she's already there. She said she wanted to get an early start."

Buffy thought of Spike's comment, "Is everything ok with you two?" she asked.

Willow nodded, "We're great—better than great even. We're peachy. "

"Will, I know it's been a while since we've talked. Getting pulled out of—"  _Paradise. "—_ Death sorta threw me for a loop. But, I miss talking to you. If you need to—or want to talk to me about anything—"

Willow put her hand on Buffy's tanned arm, "I've missed you too but, Buffy I'm fine. Really."

Buffy nodded and tucked her golden hair behind her ears, "Then I'm peachy."

"Okay well, I'm out…unless you want me to wait for you."

"No, no. You go on ahead. I'll meet you there soon. I've still got to pry Dawn from her bed."

"Okay then." Willow smiled and left.

The Slayer headed up the stairs and knocked on her sister's door. "Dawn! We need to go!"

There was no answer. Buffy rolled her eyes and turned the door knob, "Dawn, get your lazy butt—What are you doing?"

Dawn froze. She she was straddling the window sill, with her purse slung over her shoulder. "Hey Buff." She said meekly.

"Exactly what part of  _'you're grounded'_  was unclear?"

Dawn's bottom lip jutted out, "The part where I can't leave without permission."

"Where were you even going?"

Dawn swung her leg back into the bedroom. "The hospital." She said simply. "I wanted to check on Janice."

Buffy unfolded her arms, suddenly ashamed. "Oh, well—why didn't you just ask me?"

"Because I knew what your answer would be." Dawn spat.

Buffy's mouth fell open, "Dawn, is that really what you think of me? That I wouldn't let you visit your best friend in the hospital?"

"Well, I don't know what to think. You've hardly spoken to me since you got back…except when I'm in trouble. Then you're all about the speaking."

"That's not fair." Buffy said, anger returning, "I'm only trying to do what mom would've—"

"Don't finish that sentence." Dawn said. The teenager threw herself onto her stomach on top of her bed, her long dark hair fanning over her like a tent.

Buffy sighed and perched on the edge of the mattress. "I'm not heartless Dawn. I would've let you go…I just want you to be respectful enough to ask."

Dawn slowly turned her head to look up at her sister, "So, I _can_  go?"

"I'm going with you." Buffy said, "Then we are going straight to the Magic Box. Deal?"

"Deal." Dawn smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

Spike hurried through the tunnels. The nearer he got to his crypt, the worse the empty feeling in his gut became.  _Just like last night_. Whatever had been luring in his crypt had left its mark in the air.  _Like a skunk…except really dangerous._

The tunnel curved east, and he was hit with Dawn's lemony fragrance. Soon, the archway into his underground bedroom, where the Nibblet had hidden, came into view. Spike strode to the nightstand and lit a few candles-even though he was perfectly capable of seeing in the dark. Something about creature comforts always set him at ease.

His bedroom looked as undisturbed as the upstairs had the night before. Yet, along with Dawn's faint essence, Spike could still sense something else. Something darker. He prowled through the dimly lit cavern, watching the light dance on the stone walls, senses alert for any change.

As he neared the ladder to the first floor, the off-putting aura grew stronger. Spike stopped as his boot crunched upon something lying on the rug-covered stone floor. He lifted his foot and swooped down to pick up the glittering object he'd almost squished.

Lying there on the rug was a gold chain, with a pendant attached to it. It appeared to be some sort of symbol, although Spike didn't recognize the origin—and that was saying a lot for someone who was familiar with a few dozen languages, both demon and non.

The moment his cool fingertips touched the equally cool metal, he felt dread seeping into him. It was the same darkness he sensed upstairs, but more potent. Like ice cold cement being injected into his veins. Whatever this symbol was, it belonged to the creature they'd encountered on Halloween.

Spike scooped it up and shoved it deep into his duster's pocket, where it was safe from accidentally brushing his skin. Satisfied with his search he swept back into the sewer tunnels, headed for his next stop—a certain seedy bar on the edge of town.

* * *

"She's awake, but she's lost a lot of blood. You'll only be able to stay for a moment." The nurse said outside Room I-87.

Dawn nodded that she understood.

Buffy smiled gratefully, "A moment's all we need."

"We just want to see that she's ok." Dawn added.

The nurse gave a sad smile and ushered them into the small room. Janice was tucked into the bed with various IV's and wires coming out of her slender body. She turned her head as if it weighed more than a pumpkin. When she saw Dawn she smiled.

"You're ok!" Janice said.

Dawn nodded and took her best friend's hand. "I could say the same thing to you."

"Bryan isn't okay though." Janice cast her eyes down at her hands as she folded and unfolded them in her lap.

"Yeah." Dawn said quietly.

Buffy stood in the doorway, silent, studying Janice's injuries. The Slayer in her was dying to ask what she remembered. What had she seen before she and Bryan were attacked?

A memory entered her mind unbidden—last year, when she and Dawn had spent far too much time at Sunnydale Memorial. After their mother's death, Dawn had snuck into the morgue to try and see the body…

…That boy in the body bag from last night, Bryan, was probably just a few floors beneath her feet, right at that very moment. The authorities had refused to release any information about his injuries. If Buffy ever wanted to know what happened, she might just have to go see for herself.

Buffy tapped her sister's shoulder. Dawn looked up from her seat on the foot of Janice's bed. "Dawn, I'm going to run to the cafeteria…my stomach's still a little queasy. Will you be okay in here for a few minutes?"

Dawn rolled her eyes, "Relax Buffy. I'm not going to pull a rescue mission."

"Right." Buffy tried to look stern, "Because you're still—"

"—Grounded. Got it."

Buffy told Janice she was glad to see her looking better and slipped into the hall.

* * *

The low-lit dive bar was crawling with shady characters, even in the middle of the day. Several ugly demons looked up as the bleach blonde vampire passed their tables.

Willy was behind the bar, polishing shot glasses with a rag that might once have been white. He caught sight of Spike and his mousy face adopted an amused smirk. "Well, long time no see."

Spike shrugged. "Got more important things to do than hang around this dump."

Willy sneered. "Like follow that goody-two-shoes Slayer around?"

Spike clenched his fists at his sides, "I'd leave Buffy out of this, Mate…if I were you." Even Spike was surprised at his violent thoughts the moment Wily brought up his Slayer. It was his demon, coming to the surface, ready to defend his territory.

"Oh so it's Buffy now, is it?" Willy chuckled and went back to polishing.

Spike let out a long breath and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. He lit one up and blew a cloud of smoke right at Willy's rat face. "I'm here on business. Dalton around?"

"If he is, he's in the back."

"Ta' mate." Spike sauntered off to the back room.

Three creatures were engaged in a poker game at a round table beneath a single flickering lightbulb. Clem, the pinkish blubbery demon appeared to be winning, as he had a sizable basket of mewling kittens in front of him. The demon beside Clem, who looked like a dragon that had been dipped in molasses, was eyeing the Tabby's with envy, and Dalton the vampire was idly shuffling the next hand.

"Spike! I thought we'd lost you for good." Clem said happily as Spike plopped down in the fourth seat at the table.

Spike shrugged and tried to look casual. "Well, now that the Slayer's back from…vacation, her super friends don't ned my help so—"

"Humans man." The dragon demon agreed.

"Right." Spike raked a hand through his hair, "Actually, I was wonderin' if I could have a word with four eyes here." He nodded toward Dalton.

Dalton stuttered, "Oh, um…of course. Yes."

Spike's pride swelled a bit.  _At least someone's still afraid of me._ "Nothing pressing. I just need some legit papers—I.D. That sort of thing. Heard you were the man to see."

"Why yes, I've dabbled in it."

"Good. I'll pay you well. Just need them as soon as possible."

Clem said, "What are you plotting? Vacation?"

Spike shrugged, "Just looking to expand my estate, so to speak." He rose to leave but paused when he remembered the pendant in his pocket. "Say, any of you ever seen anything like this?" He dangled the pendant before the group, cringing at its aura.

Dalton squinted and ghosted his fingers over the gold. He jumped back immediately and shook his head. "No, never seen it, but it doesn't feel right."

"Yeah, got the same impression myself." Spike shoved it back out of sight. "Well, thanks then. When those papers are ready, you know where to find me."

* * *

The Slayer cast a quick glance over her shoulder to be sure no one was watching her as she got in the elevator. When the doors opened, she quickly stepped in and pressed  _LL-_ the floor that contained only the morgue.

 _Come on…come on!_ She silently willed the doors to close before someone could catch her. Finally her prayers were answered and she felt herself being carried downward.

5…4…3…DING!

The elevator stopped and the doors swung open. A handsome doctor in a white lab coat and thick rimmed glasses stepped into the cramped space beside her. He glanced at the number panel and frowned when he saw that  _LL_  was already lit up. Apparently, they were headed to the same place.

He stepped back, casting sideways glances at the small blonde beside him as the elevator continued down. "Going down?" He said with more than enough skepticism.

"Oh…silly me. Not that far down." Buffy smiled and quickly pressed  _Lobby._

He smiled back, clearly flirting, which Buffy staunchly ignored until the elevator stopped in the lobby and spit out one annoyed slayer.  _Stupid observant nosy civilians._

After making her way through the lobby and taking several wrong turns, Buffy found the stairwell leading down. At the bottom, she looked both ways down the basement hall, before she shut the stairwell door behind her, quietly as she could.

She made it to the swinging double doors where the freezers were without any signs of her elevator companion. Which was a relief because, short of knocking him unconscious, she had no plan.

When she stepped through the doors, the frigid air inside the room hit her flushed skin—it felt nice. Which was a whole can of psychological worms she didn't want to go near.

She realized as she perused the names on the freezers that she didn't know Bryan's last name. That turned out not to be a problem when she found  _Burr, Bryan- 10/31/2000._ How many Bryan's could possibly have died on Halloween in Sunnydale…this had to be him.

Buffy took a breath, willed her diabolical stomach to remain firm and pulled out the drawer.  _Was I put in one of these?_

The drawer glided smoothly. The Slayer expected to see feet, with a bluish tint, possibly with a tag around a toe…

…But that's not what she saw. Not at all. She saw the shape of a body, the form of a man, but without his skin. Like a sausage without casing. Red muscles and ligaments laid bare.

Her hand covered her mouth. She'd seen blood and guts—it was her calling, but she'd never seen a demon do this.  _Wasn't there a museum exhibit full of bodies like this?_  No wonder the police were keeping their mouth's glued shut about this. What would they say?

There were footsteps outside the door. Buffy quickly slammed the drawer closed and raced out of the freezer room. She came face to face with the same doctor with the wide-rimmed glasses.

Buffy cast about for something to say and settled on, "Well, that's definitely not the ladies room. Yuck." She took off down the hall before he could respond…and this time she took the elevator.

* * *

"You're sure that was the right body?" Xander asked, his skin pale. He set down his doughnut, suddenly not so hungry. "I mean maybe it was a different Bryan?"

"Even if it was a different Bryan…I think someone being skinned is concerning." Willow pointed out.

Giles removed his glasses and paced around the research table. "Yes, it is quite alarming. I hate to say this, but I hope it's a demon we are dealing with—a person that could do that, is a person I don't want to meet."

Anya looked up from her bridal magazine and casually said, "Well, that certainly doesn't change the fact that Dawn could've been filleted last night…and so could we all."

Buffy stood up. "Can you excuse me for a sec." She didn't wait for an answer before running off to the training room. The combination of her ever-present nausea and the thought that she almost lost Dawn, became an overwhelming avalanche.

She headed straight toward the punching bag and pounded her fists as hard as she could. The bag shook, even on reinforced hinges, it threatened to fly right off the ceiling.

Buffy didn't even hear the door when it opened. Suddenly, Tara was beside her.

"Buffy? Are you alright?"

The slayer rested her forehead against the punching bag, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?"

"Take care of Dawn, protect Dawn…be a guardian." Buffy's back was turned so she missed Tara's flinch.

The good witch began softly, "About that…I know you have been feeling sick lately…and well, I can read auras a bit." Tara paused and Buffy looked up, brows scrunched together. "Have you thought of why you might be feeling this way? When was the last time you…um, have you— _you know_ — with anyone?" Tara cast her eyes down uncomfortably.

Buffy's mouth fell open and a long silence prevailed. Then, she burst out laughing. "No, no, no. A big heaping pile of no. I haven't since before Glory…and he wasn't even—we were safe."

Tara shifted on her feet, "How  _long_  before Glory? Because, Mr. Giles and I looked over the spell that—and it doesn't specify that just you would be brought back."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked folding her arms defensively. Mention of Willow's spell still stung.

"The spell talks about bringing dead cells back to life. Reanimating the body…if there was any chance that you might have been… _you know_ …before you jumped, the spell might've—"

"—No. That's not possible." Buffy said, more to herself than the timid girl beside her. The Slayer drifted to the bench against the wall and collapsed onto the seat, lost in her thoughts.

She and Spike had been together the night before the tower. Of course, it was possible that there were  _things…_ left over…Buffy cringed at that image. It all fit—even she couldn't pretend it hadn't crossed her mind these last few weeks, but she'd thought it was impossible. This reanimated body was for all intents and purposes untouched.  _What did Willow do?_

Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder and realized that Tara was beside her. "I don't think she meant to. She didn't know." Tara said gently.

Buffy realized she must've said that last bit out loud. "It happened right before, the night before actually. But, it's not like he can have kids."

Tara shrugged. "Well, normally that's probably true, since Spike's a vampire, but Willow's spell—"

"Wait, who said anything about Spike?" Buffy panicked.

Tara immediately backpedalled. "Well, I just assumed—"

The Slayer's shoulders slumped again in defeat. "No, it's alright. It's Spike's…" She couldn't bring herself to say baby. Not yet. "Please don't say anything to the others…they wouldn't understand."

"Of course not. It's your decision when you tell them." Tara hesitated. "Buffy, they moved mountains to bring you back. They love you. I think maybe you should have some faith in them."

 _Yeah, the moved mountains to bring me back because they can't face the darkness alone. Because they are cowards._ Buffy frowned, "What am I going to do?"

"It will work out. It always does. Spike loves you. He'll take care of you. Have a little faith in him too."

Buffy nodded in silence. Long moments passed by until Buffy finally realized she was alone. Tara was long gone. The Slayer gathered her courage and went to join the others.

* * *

Buffy entered the main room of the Magic Box to find that Spike had arrived at some point during her heart to heart with Tara.

"Buffy, Spike found something in his crypt that he thinks might be connected to our demon." Giles said when he noticed his Slayer.

Buffy glanced at the vampire in question. He was seated at the research table, feet propped up on a second chair, lounging there like he belonged.  _What am I going to say to him? Hey Spike, remember how I said that night didn't mean what you thought it did? Well, guess what…turns out, it means we are going to be parents._

He wasn't her first choice. Or was he? The truth was, she'd never considered children, but Spike would probably make a great father. He was loyal. Look at the way he was with Dawn. Protective…even loving.

"Something on my face, Slayer?" Spike asked with an amused smirk. He tilted his head and studied her.

Buffy realized she'd drifted to the chair beside him and was staring far longer then was necessary. Xander was even beginning to look murderous. In fact, they were all staring.

Buffy spun forward in her chair, fixing her eyes on Giles. "Spike found something?"

Giles frowned at her, but nodded and said, "Yes. A pendant—a symbol of some kind. It was on the floor of the crypt. You said you both felt a presence there correct?"

"Right. It was wigsome for sure. It talked to us."  _It said it had plans for us…I wonder if? No._ Buffy eliminated that thought. Buffy had her hands full protecting Dawn. She couldn't add another person to that.

The conversation picked up about researching said symbol and again, Buffy's gaze drifted to the vampire at her side. His nose so straight, cheekbones you could pitch a tent under, eyes like the sky when the rain clears.  _At least our child has good genes._  There it was again…that word…child. They were going to have a child. She and Spike. Angel was going to go ballistic.

"Buffy, could you at least pretend like you're listening to me?" Giles agitated stare fell upon her.

Buffy caught Tara's eyes and the good witch tried to hide her smirk. Spike had his eyebrow raised. Willow looked like she was prepared to whip out a spell for better concentration skills. Xander and Dawn simply looked concerned. Anya, with her bridal magazine, was perhaps the only other person in the room as distracted as Buffy.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

Giles rolled his eyes and Spike chuckled.

"I think you and Spike should go by the crypt before patrol. See if you still feel anything off. We will stay here and look into this symbol."

Buffy nodded. She wasn't eager to be alone with Spike just now, but five more minutes with the Scoobies and they were bound to start asking questions. She wasn't the queen of research, but she wasn't normally such a space cadet either.

Spike held the door open for her. "After you luv."

Buffy flinched at the pet name. For the first time ever, she found herself saying, "Thank-you."

* * *

"What's on your mind Slayer?" Spike asked. They were approaching the crypt and Buffy had hardly said two words since the Magic Box.

"None of your business." She spat. She immediately regretted it. It  _was_  his business after all.

Spike's jaw tightened and his eyes flashed from blue to yellow and back. "Have it your way. Forget I asked." He charged ahead and entered the crypt without her.

Buffy sighed and chased after him. "Spike, wait. I'm sorry okay? I'm just not ready to talk about it yet."

Spike spun around, his duster billowing around him like a leather shadow. "No secrets between us Luv. I can read you like an open book. I know something's going on in that noggin of yours—something damn important if it's got you distracted from slaying." He stepped into her space, putting himself eye to eye with her, "Do us both a favor and spill so we can get on with our search."

"I'm pregnant." The words tumbled from her mouth before she could reign them in.

The silence that echoed through the crypt left them both breathless. A parade of emotions danced across Spike's beautiful face. Shock, Hope, Anger, Hurt…finally absolute betrayal. Spike straightened and cleared his throat. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. He tried to make his voice cool and strong, but it was impossible not to hear the emotion. "Well, you certainly are getting back into the swing of things." He moved toward the ladder. "Let's check the bedroom."

Buffy clenched her fists and jumped down the ladder after him, "That's it? That's all you've got to say?"

"What do you want me to say Buffy?" Spike yelled back. The sudden volume made Buffy recoil against the ladder. "Do you expect me to congratulate you?"

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, instinctively protecting this new life she'd only just discovered. Her cheeks felt hot and wet and she realized she was crying.

Spike shut his eyes and let out a low growl at the sight of her tears. "Stop crying." He paced, "Seeing you cry makes me want to hold you and take the pain away…and my pride can't afford that just now."

Buffy hiccuped and then managed to choke out the words, "It's ours."

"I mean after all I did. I thought we were getting somewhere—what did you say?" He went deathly still, eyes rivited on the petite woman pressed against his ladder.

"You're the only candidate. I haven't slept with anyone since Riley…except you."

It was as if a ray of sunlight washed over the lower level of the crypt. Spike's pacing stopped. His eyes widened—in awe, rather than surprise. "Buffy?" He said her name softly as he stepped toward her.

She frantically scrubbed at her eyes, trying to recover her usual wall of strength. "I haven't even taken a test yet or anything, but I don't really need to—I know. So does Tara…she said she saw it in my aura."

"Buffy, look at me." When she didn't move, Spike took her chin and tilted it up toward him. Looking at her tear-stained face, he found there were no words that could express everything he felt for her now. He thought he'd loved her before…and he had. But, this was new, this devotion and utter belonging running through his long dead heart. He decided there was only one way to say it. He pressed his lips hard to hers, holding her face between his hands.

She gave in immediately, melting against him and allowing his lips to distract her from the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. He moved his hands to her waist, clutching her small body against his and allowing her to tangle her hands in his hair.

She realized in that moment why she turned to Spike when she came back. He made everything quiet. Just his voice, his body near hers made everything still and peaceful—a feeling she desperately craved after being ripped from heaven. His lips were another story— this was both peaceful and intoxicating. She could get lost in this if she let herself. The only thing that existed was them. Spike and Buffy.

When they were both panting hard, Spike pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. "Forgive me for being a bloody wanker before?"

His deep voice rumbled against her chest. She smiled, "My reaction wasn't much better—calmer maybe, but just as emotional."

"I'm going to take care of you both, Buffy. Everything will be alright."

Buffy sadly dropped her hands to her sides, "I'm not helpless Spike…that being said, I don't think I can do this alone." Buffy slid passed him and sat on the foot of the bed.

"You won't be alone. Look, the loan I gave you, there's more where that came from." He sat beside her, shoulders brushing hers.

"Let's just take this one step at a time. The first thing that needs to happen is a doctor's appointment. Just to confirm and make sure it's healthy."

"Just tell me when and where." Spike said, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned toward her, aching to taste her again, but Buffy sprang to her feet.

"Right, well. Let' get this investigation over with, so we can get home."

Her rejection stung, but he didn't miss her use of the words  _'we can get home'_.

Buffy prowled around the room, trying very hard to look concentrated. "I don't sense anything now. Do you?"

"No, I think that pendant was the last of it." Spike said, "When are you planning on telling Dawn?"

"What?" Buffy frowned at him, "One step at a time remember? Focus."

Spike leaned against the bedpost, smiling at his Slayer. "Wait to tell the whelp if you want—Hell, don't tell him, I don't care. But, you need to tell the Nibblet. She'll be hurt if you don't."

Buffy sighed, giving up the pretense that they were actually going to get anything productive done. "I'll tell her soon. I just need to digest first." She spun to face him, "I mean, we are having a child…You and I."

He prowled forward and scooped her up in his arms, "Careful luv, keep talking like that and I can't be held responsible for my actions." He nuzzled her neck.

Buffy giggled and pushed him away, but this time she took his hand. "Come on Casanova. I'd say there's nothing else to see here. Let's go home."

"Bedrooms are good for other activities as well Slayer." Spike leered at her as he allowed her to pull him toward the ladder.

"Don't push it." She said as she climbed up, leaving Spike chuckling behind her.


	8. Visitors

**Ch. 8:**

**Visitors**

Buffy and Spike's fingers were still curled around each other as they entered the house on Revello Drive. Buffy made no move to detangle herself, instead she began to pull Spike toward the kitchen. Slaying usually made her crave two things—food and something else she was not going to entertain. They could at least fulfill one of those wishes before bed.

They rounded into the kitchen and barely avoided a collision with Dawn. The teenager adjusted her popcorn bowl in her arms and zeroed in on Spike and Buffy's joined hands. A slow smile crept onto her face until Buffy said, "Dawn! What are you doing up?"

"It's 10:15." Dawn said flatly. "And it's Saturday…What are  _you_  doing with the hand holding?"

Buffy had to glance at her hands to verify Dawn's comment. The Slayer had forgotten all about that. She immediately released Spike. Instead of trying to come up with some lame excuse she simply said, "None of your business."

Dawn frowned. "I'm not stupid, you know? He stays here every night, he's around during the day. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for it—Spike was all I had when you were gone…but don't act like nothing's going on when something obviously is." Dawn tossed her long hair over her shoulder and marched out of the kitchen, spilling bits of popcorn in her haste.

"I hate to say I told you so, Slayer but…" Spike swept passed Buffy and opened the fridge.

Buffy plopped on a barstool and put her head in her hands. "I'm not cut out for this."

"No one's cut out for teenage girls, Luv." Spike emerged from the fridge with a packet of blood and a carton of eggs. "You were quite a handful, as I recall. Wonder where Dawn gets it from?"

"Oh please, I was a ray of sunshine." Buffy spied the eggs and her eyes lit up, "Ooh, scrambled with—"

"—Mayo and cheese on toast. I got this Slayer." Spike huffed. Then he smiled as he realized why Buffy had been requesting this strange dinner every night.

Which brought him back to Dawn. He pointed to the living room. "You let me worry about dinner and you march your delectable little arse in there and talk to the Nibblet. This change will effect her too."

Buffy folded her arms over her breasts, "Since when do I take orders from you?"

Spike let out a slow breath. "Have it your way Buffy, but the longer you wait the worse it will be." He turned to the cabinet and pulled out a frying pan, ignoring the girl behind him.

Finally, he heard her slip off the barstool and mutter, "I hate it when you're right."

He smiled to himself and continued with dinner.

* * *

Buffy entered the living room. Dawn's eyes were fixed on the T.V. as her hand methodically traveled between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. She didn't even flinch when the couch dipped down as Buffy sat beside her.

Buffy cleared her throat and rubbed her palms on the tops of her thighs.  _Oh boy, where to begin._ "Dawnie…there's something I need to talk to you about. It involves Spike…and myself."

Dawn's entire mood did a somersault. She smiled and bounced in her seat, spilling more popcorn on her lap and the couch. "I knew it! You're together aren't you. This is so great! Is he moving in with us?"

Buffy held up her hands, "Woah, let's press rewind here for a second. First of all, Spike's NOT moving in with us."  _At least, not in the near future._

Dawn's face fell slightly, "So you're  _not_  together?"

Buffy shut her eyes and pinched her nose, "No, look Dawn…it's not that simple."

"Sure it is. You're either together or you're not."

"I'm pregnant." There it was again. Her mouth running away from her. She really had a problem with that.  _Maybe there's a support group. Blurters Anonymous._

Very few things could render teenage Dawn Summers speechless, but that was one of them. Her round eyes took over her entire face and her mouth formed a small 'o'.

She blinked…

She blinked again…

Finally, she said, "How the Hell did that happen?"

"Nibblet! Language." Spike appeared in the living room with Buffy's egg sandwich and his mug of blood.

"Like for real though…how?"

Spike perched beside the Slayer, who was now studying her fingernails. "We've got Red to thank for yet another miracle." His eyes filled with adoration as he studied Buffy, his first miracle.  _Say what you will about Red, but her mistakes seem to keep working out alright for me._

"Willow did this? Did she wish for it or something…or I mean, did you guys actually….with the baby-making?"

"Dawn!" Buffy's face turned beet red.

Spike chuckled, "Never mind the particulars Bit. It had something to do with the wording of the spell. In any case, there's a sprog on it's way that's half me half big sis."

Dawn nodded and fell back into the couch cushions. After a long pause she let out a giggle and said, "Holy crap."

"Tell me about it." Buffy said, slouching down to match her sister. She reached out her hands like a grabby child, toward the food on the coffee table.

Spike's eyes twinkled. He handed her the plate and thoughtfully sipped at his blood as he watched her enjoy her dinner. They sat in what was, if not companionable silence, then at least calm.

"Any luck with that weird symbol?" Buffy asked between mouthfuls.

Dawn shrugged, "We didn't find it in the books. Giles said he's going to call some friends in London tomorrow."

Buffy nodded and yawned. Spike took the empty plate from her and said, "Slayer, why don't we get you up to bed. You're lookin' zombie like."

Buffy was too tired to argue so she let him pull her to her feet and said goodnight to Dawn, along with a firm reminder that she was not to say anything to the other Scoobies about the baby.

The vampire and the slayer made their way up the stairs, oblivious to the red blinking voicemail light on the white telephone.

* * *

Buffy picked out strappy lilac satin nightgown. She wore it almost every night, but this time, she felt self conscious.  _What if Spike thinks I'm wearing it for him…which I am so not. I don't want to give him the wrong idea._ She glanced at the vampire who was shuffling his feet in her doorway.

Buffy quickly pushed past him with the nightgown clutched in her hands. "I'll just be a sec." She pointed to the bathroom, "You can just…wait."

Spike nodded, just as uncomfortable as she was. "Right. Sure."

In the bathroom, Buffy panicked.  _We can't do this. Having conversations at night or being friends on patrol, that was one thing, but this…raising a child, acting like we have things in common. We can't do normal. This is a disaster._

Buffy splashed her face with water. "Snap out of it Summers." She commanded her reflection. She swept her hair back in a ponytail, changed her clothes, brushed her teeth and forced herself to leave the bathroom.

Spike watched her shut the bathroom door a bit harder than was necessary. He sighed and walked into her room. It took ten seconds of pacing before he decided to climb out the window onto the roof and have a cigarette.

_We can't do this. If I had all the time in the world, I couldn't change that stubborn mind of hers…but I've only got nine months, give or take. Nine months to make her see she loves me back. Nine months to build a life with her for our baby…_

His mind went quite at that word. Baby. He found himself smiling like a fool and he couldn't have cared less. He was going to have a baby. A little girl with Buffy's hair and golden skin, maybe his eyes. His mother's cheekbones. If nine months was all he had, then by god, nine months was all it would take.

He slipped back through the window just as Buffy came into the bedroom. She looked beautiful. Her golden body covered in a thin scrap of lilac, her hair swept off her neck. The only thing Spike would've changed was the look in her green eyes. He wanted to remove the fear and uncertainty and replace it with the love he felt.

She moved to the bed, so he shrugged off his coat and boots and took his spot beside her. They'd been doing this for weeks, but it felt so much more intimate now…and infinitely more awkward.

She shut off the light and they were back to their dark temple with the tacky glowing stars.

"So, I guess I'll call the doctor in the morning." She said quietly.

"Yeah. Good idea, Pet. Don't worry about the cost…like I said, I've more than enough."

He felt her shift and soon she was facing him, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I was willing to overlook that before, but now that it's paying for my cild…I'd like to know…where does this money come from."

"Lower your weapons, Luv. Not doing anything shady. The bit I gave you—"

"—Loaned"

Spike rolled his eyes, "Fine, the bit I  _loaned_ you came from a little pile of money I put away after the Gem. Fenced some goodies and made a nice little nest-egg. The rest is all mine—family inheritance, investments, that sort of thing."

"Let me get this straight, all this time I've been paying you for information and you were richer than all the Scoobies combined?"

"Vampire." He said by way of response.

Buffy didn't answer, but she rolled back onto her back. Spike could tell that topic hadn't won him any favor. "I'm through with all that though. I had a buddy of mine draw me up some legit papers and everything. O'course, I didn't know I'd need them so bad at the time. I was just tryin' to get my affairs in order so I could help you and the Bit out." Spike smiled at the irony of the situation, "Now, looks like I'll be needin' em for birth certificates and the like."

"You're serious aren't you." It wasn't a question. "You want to stay here and do this with me?"

Spike rolled over and turned her cheek so he could look in her eyes, "Luv, I've never lied to you. There is nothing that could make me leave you now. I'm here. Give you everything you need. Just say the word."

Buffy studied his eyes for a long time. She reached out and traced the lines of his face with her finger tips. Ghosting over his features like a feather. Finally, she said, "You're a strange vampire." She scooted closer and snuggled into his side with a yawn. "Goodnight, Spike."

"Night, Buffy."

* * *

Spike's eyes shot open. He was still in Buffy's room. The Slayer was sprawled across his chest, her slow deep breaths tickling his neck. The room was bathed in darkness. Spike couldn't say what had woken him. He had been enjoying a pleasant dream about his girl and a cosy little crypt with a view—when suddenly, his eyes shot open.

Something was wrong.

Like a slow chill that starts at your toes and slithers up your skin inch by inch until it reaches your hairline, Spike began to feel that hollow dread.

Spike shook Buffy's shoulder as gently as he could. "Slayer." He whispered. "Luv, wake up."

"Spike…still dark…go away." Her sleepy voice was muted by the comforter as she yanked it over her head.

He felt it again. His entire body flexed and his eyes darted about. Buffy slowly emerged from beneath the white fluffy covers. "Did you feel that?" she asked.

"'Fraid so." The words had scarcely left his lips, before the vampire was pulled feet first off the bed. His body crashed into the vanity, smashing the mirror and scattering perfume bottles across the floor.

Buffy screamed as his body flew. She threw off the covers and was on her feet in an instant. "Spike?" Buffy made a general statement to the darkness. Not having the benefit of vampire vision, she could hardly make out anything.

"M'alright Slayer." Spike pulled himself out of the rubble that used to be a vanity and moved to her side.

She jumped until she realized it was just him. "What do you want from us?" Buffy asked.

The chilling laughter chimed through the dark.  _"Flesh."_  It said simply.

The bedroom door crashed open. Yellow light poured in from the hall. Willow, Tara and Dawn crowded in.

"Buffy, we heard screaming." Tara began.

"Are you alright…Spike?" Willow's eyes narrowed in suspicion at the vampire. "What did you—"

"Willow, not now." Buffy commanded.

The others noticed the Slayer's crouched stance, her weight pressed to the balls of her feet, muscles coiled and ready. Spike's stance mirrored the petite girl beside him.

" _The cavalries arrived."_ Willow's red hair rustled around her cheeks, caught in an unfelt breeze, _"Mmmm so sweet. So much power."_

"Want flesh do you?" Spike growled, "Like that poor bastard in the cemetery? What was his name, luv? Bryan?"

" _He was too tough, full of mistakes and regrets…No, his was not the flesh for me."_

"Well, you can't have any of us." Willow said. Her pupils dilated, turning her eyes wide and black.

" _But you all smell so…righteous."_

The breeze moved toward Tara. Her arms slowly floated away from her sides, as if she was preparing to fly away. Her body lifted a few inches off the ground then whizzed past them like a bullet. She hit the wall in the hallway, causing a few cracks to appear in the wallpaper.

"Tara!" Willow rushed after her, but she was held back. Her eyes were now completely black. Her fingers flexing and twisting at her sides.

Buffy edged up next to her friend, "Will, don't."

" _This one's true, lovely."_ Tara's face turned to the side, cheek pressed into the wall. A small red line drew across her skin from ear to nose. Blood trickled. Tara struggled, but it was useless.

Spike had an idea. He yanked the comforter off the bed and rushed toward the good witch. He threw the blanket up toward the ceiling. It slowly drifted down, tenting over the shape of the demon holding Tara.

It only remained for a moment. Long enough for them to see that it was the size of a human—not some hulking beast. As soon as the outline of a man was visible, it vanished and the blanket fell to the ground. Tara dropped to the floor.

Willow dropped to her knees and gathered Tara against her chest. Dawn ran to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth.

"Here. For her cheek."

Willow nodded gratefully. She pressed the cloth against her lover's cheek and turned wide eyes, once more green, up to her leader. "Is it gone?"

It was Spike who answered. "Can't feel it…it's gone for now. Guess it didn't like being seen."

"That's the voice I heard on Halloween…that's why I hid at Spike's." Said Dawn.

Buffy nodded, "That's what spoke to us too."

"We should call Giles." Tara said, now sitting up on her own and cradling her injured cheek.

"There's no time for that." Buffy turned to Spike. "Get a weapon."

Spike caught her firm bicep, "It's gone, Luv. It's just toying with us. Done it's damage for the night, I wager."

"Spike's right, there's no point chasing something you can't see…and what if it comes back." Dawn turned pleading eyes on her sister. "We need you here."

Buffy's shoulders slumped. The group fell into silence. Buffy was suddenly aware of her exposed body…she was still clad only in the lilac nightgown. She wrapped her arms around herself and shank toward the wall. Suddenly, a soft robe draped itself over her shoulders. She looked up at Spike, who simply winked at her, brushed his hands down her robe covered shoulders and stepped away.

Spike rubbed his hands together. "Well, who's up for a cuppa? All that excitement gave me a hankering for some marshmallows."

"Yes! Hot chocolatey comfort. Good plan." Buffy and Spike both turned toward the stairs.

Willow's voice stopped them on the first step. "Stop…turn…explain."

Buffy and Spike froze. The Slayer slowly turned to her roommates with a guilty expression. She opened her mouth, ready to spout off every random excuse in the book…but Dawn came to her rescue.

"As curious as we all are about Spike being here…and it's a good thing he was…why don't we take this conversation to the kitchen. My tummy's rumbling."

"I'm with Dawnie." Said Tara, shooting an understanding smile at the frozen super beings.

Willow's eyes studied the others, narrowing at the tension between them all. Finally, the red witch gave a reluctant nod. She helped Tara up while Spike and Buffy sprinted to the kitchen. Dawn smiled and skipped merrily down the stairs—glad for once that she was in on the secret.

* * *

"What are we going to tell them?" Buffy whispered as soon as she and Spike were alone in the kitchen.

Spike shrugged as he set five mugs down on the kitchen island. "Could try the truth."

"Spike, look we talked about this. I'm not—"

Spike held up his hands. "Breathe Slayer. If you're not ready to spill the beans just yet—tell em we went out for a late patrol and I kipped in the basement. Heard the noise and ran upstairs to suss it out." Spike sauntered around the counter. He leaned toward Buffy, trapping her against the counter with his body.

Buffy froze, torn between running and melting against the firm muscles teasing at her own. Just as she was settling on running, Spike's face grew serious.

"Are you alright, Luv.  _Both_  of you?" a tentative hand came up and gently cradled her flat belly. He rubbed his thumb in slow circles around her belly button, his blue eyes boring into hers.

She sighed, in spite of herself, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her…and the warmth of the life inside her, shared between them. "I should be asking you that. You're the one that bulldozed my vanity with your face."

"Didn't mean physically alright, Kitten."

 _Kitten, that's new._ Buffy smiled and grazed his cheek with her fingers. "Yes,  _we're_  fine. Wigged, but fine. I mean…this demon apparently has an all access pass to our house…which doesn't give me warm fuzzies—"

As she babbled, Spike's lips drifted closer until they silenced her. She responded right away. Her arms locked around his neck as his grabbed hold of her backside, lifting her hips to press against his.

With her robe splayed open and only the satin to protect her, Buffy could feel every subtle curve of his muscled chest. His belt pressed into her stomach, his jeans—and what they were concealing pressed against her center.

A moan escaped her lips and she deepened the kiss. A vague voice in the back of her mind was having a fit.  _What are you doing? This is Spike…the father of your child…oh god, shutting up now._

Spike picked her up and sat her on the counter so he could stand between her thighs. His hands moved up the front of her nightgown. His mouth traveled to her throat, nipping and kissing the soft skin.

"I knew it! You two—with the baby-making." Dawn squealed in the doorway, "Which—eww, by the way—this is where we eat."

Spike dropped his forehead to the Slayer's shoulder and let out a frustrated growl. He made no move to release his hold on her. Buffy squirmed, trying to get out of his arms.

"Dawn, this isn't what it looks like." One glimpse of the hurt in Spike's eyes and Buffy sighed, "Okay, it is what it looks like…just please don't say anything."

Dawn made a zipping motion across her lips. Spike stepped back, but continued to run his fingers through Buffy's golden hair. He smiled, and Buffy was sure he'd never looked so happy. No one had ever smiled at her the way he was now. It made her heart beat faster and her chest fill with warmth.

"Willow and Tara are in the living room, checking the news." Dawn said. "So, I'll just go in there and keep them company…and let you get back to making drinks." Her laughter followed her out of the kitchen.

As soon as Dawn was out of sight, Spike swooped back toward Buffy. This time, she pressed her palms flat against his chest, keeping him at bay.

"Kissage later—hot chocolate now."

Spike couldn't argue with that.

* * *

"Anything?" Buffy asked. She handed steaming mugs to Willow and Tara.

Willow nodded, silent. She pointed at the reporter on the screen.

"There was another victim…last night." Tara said quietly.

Buffy dropped into the armchair, the weight of failure landing on her shoulders.  _Someone else died. I didn't protect them. I've met this demon twice now and I haven't lifted a finger._

Spike perched on the armrest of her chair and gently kneaded her shoulders. Buffy didn't bother arguing, and truthfully no one even noticed. They were all too busy watching the bustling crime scene on the news. Watching another body bag as the reporter hedged around giving out any actual information.

"Guys, this is bad." Buffy muttered.

"Yeah huh." Dawn agreed.

* * *

Anya let out a frustrated moan and slumped in her chair. She tossed the book she was reading back into the large stack at the center of the table. "This is pointless. We don't have anything to go on but some ancient symbol that even  _I've_ never seen. I'm about to pin these murders on the artist formerly known as Prince."

"I hate to say it Buff, but Anya's right. Researching is getting us no where. Maybe we should send Captain Peroxide out to hit the streets…see if the other demons have heard anything."

"I'm sitting right here Whelp." Spike growled. "Anyway, I already asked around. No one knows a bloody thing."

Giles hung up the phone on the counter and came to join the group, "Well, some of my old colleagues are looking into it as well…but it doesn't seem promising."

Buffy cradled her head in her hands. "I hate this. We can't just sit around and wait for it—whatever it is—to come torture us."

"Plus, it's skinning the population…which is bad." Tara added.

The bell over the door jingled.

Everyone turned in their chairs to see who entered.

Spike growled.

Xander's eyes narrowed.

Buffy's mouth fell agape. "Angel?"

"Hi Buffy." The dark haired vampire tossed the blanket he'd used to shield himself from the sun to the side and edged his way into the shop.

Spike's frown deepened. It wasn't like Angel to run about during the day under a blanket—that was his gig.

Buffy stood up from the table, but didn't move forward. "Why are you here?" There was a bitter edge to her voice. She hadn't quite forgiven him for not calling when she'd been brought back.

"I've got some information that might help you." Angel said simply.

"Boy news travels fast." Buffy said, turning back to the others.

Angel came to the empty seat at the table. "Actually, Spike called me." Angel eyed his Grandchilde. His nostrils flared slightly and his eyes flashed. He was clearly not happy to see Spike sitting beside the love of his life.

Spike recognized that look. He quickly said, "Couldn't have called? Telephones are all the rage thee days."

"Wait  _you_  called him?" Buffy rounded on Spike.

Spike held up his hands, and slowly rose to his feet. "Needed his help with something unrelated…figured I'd kill two birds, so I asked about resurrections. S'all there was to it."

Buffy stepped closer, nose to nose. "And you couldn't have…I don't know…mentioned that to me?"

"For the record, I did try to call…" Angel tried to interrupt the confrontation.

Everyone was watching the couple, mesmerized. Buffy was angry, but there was an undercurrent of familiarity, kinship, even desire which was impossible not to pick up on.

"Didn't wager on him popping up in Sunnydale, so no." Spike leaned in a fraction closer so he could whisper in her ear, "Who are you really mad at here, Luv."

She stiffened, but then turned and sat back in her chair. The others exchanged glances and went back to their respective books.

Giles greeted Angel and said, "So, you have information?"


	9. Heaven

**Ch. 9**

**Heaven**

The air was tense with everyone glancing between Buffy and Spike, between Spike and Angel, between one another. Angel looked ready to pounce on his grandchilde. Only Giles's voice held him back.

"So, you have information?"

"Yeah." Angel growled. He went back to where he'd tossed his blanket and scooped up a black messenger bag. The broad shouldered vamp sat heavily in the vacant seat at the Scooby research table. From the bag he pulled a brown leather bound book that easily weighed more than Anya. He pushed the book across the table toward Giles and added a few rolled parchments to the table, not making eye-contact with Spike or Buffy the entire time.

"This is everything I was able to dig up. After Spi…after I was contacted, I looked into any cases of successful resurrection." Angel sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead, ever the flair for the dramatic.

"Well, spit it out. Are we all getting sucked into Hell or what?" Anya chirped. Xander placed a hand on her arm which she quickly shrugged off. "What?" she shot an angry glance at her fiancé. "If my time on earth is being shortened, I have a right to know."

"There were only two successful cases that I could find…aside from Buffy." Angel's eyes found the Slayer. There was longing and adoration in those brown pools—and Spike didn't like it one bit.

A low growl sounded from the bleached vampire, which Angel ignored. "You coming back here…it upset the balance." Angel said.

"What balance?" Buffy asked

It was Giles who answered, " _The_  balance. The balance between good and evil." He shot an acerbic glare at Willow. "The universe is very precariously balanced. If anything tips the scales in any way, that must be compensated for."

"So, you're saying Buffy, good…and Buffy come back. Therefore, the world gained one more baddie?" Xander chuckled. "Sounds like a fair trade to me. What's one more demon?"

Willow nodded in agreement, arching a smug brow at Giles.

Angel shook his head. "This isn't one more notch for the Scooby belt." He glanced at Giles, imploring him to connect the dots. "Think of it like a price of admission. Someone checks out of Hell, someone else has to check out of Heaven. Balance. Two for the price of one."

At the word Heaven, Spike's eyes shot to Buffy. The slayer had her eyes locked on the floor. Hollow, and empty. The vampire slipped a hand to the small of her back, but she shrank away.

"That doesn't make any sense." Anya said. "We let Buffy out of Hell, so this "other" being that came with her, according to your theory, would be from Heaven…an angel. Last time I checked, angels don't go around skinning people alive. Unless…" Anya glanced at Buffy as her voice trailed off.

Realization slowly crept around the table like a virus, as one by one each of the faithful members of the Scooby gang understood. They looked at Buffy, shrinking in her chair.

All at once there came a chorus of,

_Oh Buffy._

_If we had known._

_How could we have known?_

Buffy's chair clattered to the floor when she sprang to her feet. "I can't do this. Not now." She said quietly, and she was gone in a breath.

Spike felt his demon closing in…he let out another low growl and stood. He shot an angry glare at Angel, "Well, now you've gone and done it Grandpops." His anger was misdirected, and he knew it. Angel had done nothing more than what Spike himself had asked him to do. If anything, he'd done Spike a favor. Still, Spike needed to be angry at someone…and since ripping Harris's pudgy head from his shoulders was out of the question, Angel was an easy target. "Every time you show up here, I have to pick up the pieces. Why don't you do us all a favor and go home. Look into a phone next time."

Spike stomped toward the basement door, following Buffy's scent.

The remaining Scoobies sat in silence for a a long while. No one willing to say what was on their mind or in their heart.

Dawn was at a loss. She'd been left out of the decision to resurrect her big sister. It was easy to be mad, since she'd had nothing to do with it. Yet, the fact remained, if the Scoobies had told Dawn their plan, she would've helped in a heartbeat.

If the crack that sounded when Giles attempted to polish his glasses meant anything, then he was furious. Buffy had suffered so much…but to lose eternal peace. That was something no one should ever endure. Willow would pay for her mistake, one way or another.

Angel was stoic, more concerned by what he'd sensed between Buffy and Spike than anything.

As for the rest, they looked at once speechless and guilty. With the exception of Anya, who looked confused.

It was Xander who finally broke the uncomfortable tableau. "I think I speak for everyone when I say holy bejeezus I need some quiet time to think. What say we reconvene in the AM?"

"That might be best." Giles said, not looking at any of them. He grabbed his keys. "Come Dawn, I'll drive you home. Anya will lock up."

Anya looked offended. Xander cut off her argument by saying, "Of course. Go ahead."

"Giles, do you have a couch for an old acquaintance?" Angel asked, following the watcher and Dawn to the door. "I'd like to stick around. We need to talk about what I found." He said confidentially.

Giles nodded. "Yes, actually, that would be quite helpful."

With that, the group disbanded, all in their own stages of processing what they had done, no idea of what was in store.

* * *

Spike followed the slayer's scent through the tunnels to his crypt. He found her curled up in the corner of his underground bedroom. She wasn't crying…she wasn't blinking. She looked remarkably similar to the state they'd found her in after clawing her way from her coffin.

Spike sighed. All the progress they had made since her return lie shattered on the Magic Box floor…and he had himself partially to blame. If he hadn't gone nosing around the spell, he never would've thought to call Angel and the Grand Poof never would've shown up to drop the Heaven bomb on the Scooby Gang.

It was hard to stay mad at himself for long though. In the end, it all came back to Willow.

Spike perched on the edge of the bed. "Well, that could've gone better."

"They were never supposed to find out." Buffy said.

Spike raked a hand through his hair, setting his curls free. "I know Luv…but maybe it's better they did. You can't carry sommit' like that inside forever. Thing like that'll rip you limb from limb."

"Haven't you heard? That's my sacred duty." She said with a hint of sarcasm. "Carry the burdens so no one else has to."

Spike gave her s ghost of a smile. At least there was emotion in her voice. If there was emotion, he hadn't lost her completely. "The truth would've come out eventually, what with this new spook we've got chasing us around."

The Slayer nodded. "You're right, I guess. Doesn't make it hurt less though."

"I know." Was all he said. "We can stay here tonight if you'd rather. Don't have glow in the dark stars, but it's cozy."

Buffy considered his offer, her face screwed up in concentration. "Do you have indoor plumbing?"

"Can't say as I do. Why?"

"Because I'm going to be sick."

* * *

A few minutes later, the Slayer and her vampire were walking through Restfield in silence, headed toward Revello Drive. Spike couldn't help but feel a bit insulted that she didn't want to stay with him in his crypt, but he couldn't really blame her. Running water was a necessity for most humans. That got him to thinking about their living situation.

What would happen when the baby came? The baby that had been briefly overshadowed by the nights events. Would Buffy let him stay with them at her mother's house? Would the Wiccas move out?

Spike knew Buffy wasn't ready to answer those questions, but he also knew that if he didn't give her small nudges, she would never be ready.

"I should probably look into a place with plumbing and the like, I suppose." He said casually, watching her to gauge her reaction. He could tell by her mindless, " _Uh huh."_  That her mind was on Heaven, and he dropped the subject.

"You don't have to talk to them tonight. Just go on up to bed and I'll tell them to bugger off."

"Have to face them sooner or later." She said sadly. "But thanks for the offer."

Thankfully, the house was dark when they arrived. They were able to get upstairs to Buffy's room undisturbed.

Just as Spike and Buffy were silently staring at the ceiling, drifting off to sleep, there was a small knock at the door.

Spike felt Buffy's muscles tense.

"It's Dawn." He said, sensing the teenager.

Buffy relaxed. "Come in." She called out just loud enough for Dawn to hear.

Dawn didn't look surprised to see Spike beside her sister, nor did she speak. She simply walked in and curled up on the other side of Buffy. Silently supportive. Spike allowed himself a brief moment to admire Dawn Summers, before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Can I get you anything? Scotch? Bourbon? Both?" Giles held up a few bottles.

Angel shook his head. "I didn't mean to upset her like that. I didn't know."

Giles sat in a deep arm chair with his short glass. "None of us did." He took a thoughtful sip of Scotch. "Except Spike apparently."

"I noticed that too. It was hard not to."

Giles nodded. "They have been spending a lot of time together. We are all concerned."

"I would be too. Spike always has a motive. We need to find out what he wants and keep him away from Buffy." Angel tried to hide the possessiveness he felt toward the Slayer, but it came through, as always.

"Oh, I know what he wants." Giles said, "Before Glory, Spike developed a sort of…infatuation with Buffy. He claimed he was in love with her."

Angel burst out laughing. He tried to speak but could only laugh some more. Finally, between chuckles he managed to squeak out. "Spike…in…love…with…"

More laughter ensued.

"I'm sorry." He said sobering, "It's just, I knew about the chip, but I didn't expect—well,  _that_."

Giles smiled in spite of himself. "Yes, we had much the same reaction when we heard it the first time. However, since her return, Buffy has been different. There's some sort of companionship between them. It's troubling to say the least."

"So what do you suggest?" Angel asked.

Giles quietly sipped his drink. "I suggest, that we have more concerning things to worry about, for the moment, but that we observe them very carefully. If it comes to the point that we need to intervene, we will."

Angel didn't look satisfied with that answer, so Giles continued. "Glory changed everything for us. If this new threat comes down to a battle. I will not sacrifice Spike's help for my pride. Let him die in battle keeping one of us safe, if that's what he wants. It's of no matter to me. That being said, Buffy doesn't need him poisoning her thoughts. When the time comes, we will deal with it."

Angel let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright." He conceded, "If you think it will keep Buffy safe, then I'm all for it. As long as I don't have to pretend to like him."

"Of course not. I don't." Giles stood up. "Well, you're welcome to watch t.v., or do whatever it is you do. I am going to bed. Tomorrow will be a trying day."

"Goodnight, Giles." Angel said. He watched the Watcher climb the creaky stairs. He and Giles had never really seen eye to eye. Funny, how one common enemy can unite a group.


	10. You Don't Look Like an Oxford Man to Me…

**Ch. 10:**

**You Don't Look Like an Oxford Man to Me…**

That night, each member of the Scooby was visited by a strange nightmare…

…Tara saw Buffy, dressed in black, standing at the edge of a fresh hole in the ground. She wept as she tossed a handful of earth onto the smooth wooden casket in the grave…

…Xander and Anya dreamt of a delivery room at Sunnydale Memorial. Beside the bed was a clear plastic bassinet, but what lie on the pink and blue striped receiving blanket was not a baby. Rather, it was part of a baby…it was what is left when the skin is removed…like a sausage without casing.

…Willow dreamt she was walking, calling out to her friends, but none of them heard, none of them saw. They walked around her, passed her, through her, like she wasn't even there. No one saw her, no one missed her. She was trapped, unable to reach them but unable to leave them behind…

…Buffy's dreams were the worst of all. She dreamt she chased down a demon, killed him just in time, only to find out he wasn't alone. All that time, while she had pursued him, thinking she was protecting her family, there had been another, waiting in the shadows. Two for the price of one…

* * *

Spike waited until both Dawn and Buffy's heartbeats were at a slow even tempo before he silently slipped out of bed and crept to the window. He made his way through the darkened streets of Sunnydale toward Restfield.

The Slayer had been a bit distracted lately, not that Spike could blame her, but patrol had been lacking. Besides, he had some pent up energy to burn off…seeing Angelus had that effect. Much to Spike's satisfaction, the Cemetery was teeming with vamps. Spike had a productive night.

At the end of his sweep, he found himself near his crypt…where something lie long forgotten, in a trunk, in his bedroom. Something he wasn't sure he'd ever have use for.

Nothing seemed disturbed on the main floor, surprising considering the amount of time he was away from the crypt these days. He went toward the ladder and froze. Rustling sounds were coming from the hole in the ground. He thought of his last encounter with the Invisible Skinner, as Spike had taken to calling their new rival.

Senses alert, Spike swiped a heavy candlestick off a nearby sarcophagus and crept slowly down the ladder. His eyes scanned the darkened lower level—the sounds were coming from the entrance to the sewers.

Candlestick in hand he crept toward the entrance, reaching out his extra-senses for clues about what was lurking in the darkness. Whatever the intruder was, it was coming toward his bedroom. Spike flattened himself against the wall, candlestick raised above his head, ready to strike.

A dark shape appeared in the archway and Spike swung the candlestick, barely changing course in time to avoid crushing Clem's skull.

"Clem?" Spike growled, both embarrassed and annoyed. Paranoia didn't suit his Big Bad image.

"Spike? That you?" Clem said to the darkness.

Spike set about lighting candles throughout the bedroom. "Sorry, mate…thought you were something else."

"Nearly took my head off." The pink demon said. "What's got you so jumpy?"

Spike raked a hand through his hair, "Long story." Spike quickly changed the subject. Clem was known for his epic heart-to-hearts, and Spike was on a tight schedule. "Not that I mind the company, but what are you doing creeping around down here anyway? Aren't you missing your poker game?"

"Kitten shortage." Clem shrugged. "No, I came to deliver these." Clem held out a thick manila envelope. "Dalton…Well, Dalton's terrified of you. So, he had me deliver them."

"The papers." Spike's eyes lit up, "Almost forgot about those."

"You never did say exactly what you needed them for."

Spike swiped the envelope, "You're right. I didn't."

"Alright, alright," Clem held up his fat webbed hands, like raw chicken breasts, "I can take a hint."

Spike opened the envelope and began rifling through the documents. The first was a passport issued to one, William Pratt.

"Was that your human name? You don't look like a Pratt to me…" Clem said twisting his head like one of his kittens.

"No comment." Spike replied, turning to the next document.

Dalton had outdone himself. There were diplomas from High School and College. It was eerie, the newly minted English Literature degree, from Oxford University, that Spike held in his hand was almost identical to one 150 years older, buried in this very room. Change the dates, and it might've been the very same scrap of paper. Spike wondered how much Dalton knew about his human past…a time in his life he tried desperately to keep under wraps.  _Something to follow up on…_

"An Oxford Man, huh?" Clem said. "You don't look like an—"

"Cut the running commentary or leave." Spike growled.

Clem made a zipping motion across his lips.

Dalton had also included a Birth Certificate, marking his birthdate as October 31, 1972.  _Halloween…ha bloody ha._ Buffy would never let him live that one down.

The rest of the documents were financial papers, tracking his inheritance and estate through the years and directing it back to this new, 1972 William Pratt. It was everything he needed to make a real life for himself, Buffy, the bit, and the bittier bit on the way.

Spike handed Clem a wad of cash. "See that it gets to Dalton, I find out you blew it on Tabbies and I'll tell the poker gang where you hide your cards."

"Cross my heart."

Spike patted his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks, mate."

"What are friends for?" With that Clem shuffled back down the sewer tunnel and Spike went to the trunk at the foot of his bed.

He pulled a set of keys from his duster's pocket and fished around for the right one—a skeleton key the length of his thumb. He opened the trunk and rifled to the bottom, where an old jewelry case was hidden.

It was the size of a textbook, made of wood that had long since lost the black stain it once bore. It had another keyhole, for a smaller key. When the top was lifted open, a drawer simultaneously pushed out from the bottom.

The inside was lined crushed blue velvet. A little wooden frame divided the two tiers into compartments. Spike touched the oval mirror attached to the inside of the top. Black age spots encroached upon the glass, making it so cloudy, he could barely see the room reflected there.

A memory of that mirror came back, seeing his mother reflected in it while she picked out her earrings. Spike allowed himself a moment of nostalgia, before he moved on the what he was searching for. He selected a smaller box in one of the compartments and a few other pieces, wrapping them with more care then he possessed in a piece of cloth and tucking them into his pocket.

* * *

Spike was on his way back to Revello Drive when he heard the screaming. It was coming from a building a few blocks from the Magic Box. Spike took off at a run, paused for a moment of self-deprecating laughter—rushing off to help the innocent _…what has this world come to?_ — then resumed running.

The door to the Antique Store was locked. Spike didn't hesitate before kicking it off its hinges and storming inside. A middle-aged woman with chin length dark hair was collapsed in a pool of glass against a shattered display case, clinging to consciousness.

She appraised Spike, terror entering her rapidly swelling eyes. She tried to scramble away until Spike put a hand to his lips and whispered, "Which way did they go?"

Terror still present, she lifted a shaky hand and pointed through the doorway that led to the antique furniture section.

 _Great, the fight always has to go down where there's sharp shards of wood everywhere._  Spike stomped into the room, finding it empty. "Olly-bloody-oxen-free." He yelled.

Footsteps that shook the very floor beneath his feet echoed through the shop. A creature emerged from the shadows. Horns the size of trumpets above green eyes with slitted pupils. Not a demon Spike recognized.  _Pity, they're a lot easier to kill when I know where to aim._

The demon charged, and ran…right passed Spike. Like he wasn't even there.

The thing stopped and looked around. Were it possible for an ugly beast like that to look confused, that's what it would've looked like.

"Oi, ugly! Over here." Spike tossed a chair in the demons direction.

As the fight commenced, Spike heard voices from the back door. Two men—young men, were arguing.

" _That's not the Slayer. Who's he?"_

" _That's Spike."_

" _Where's Buffy? This was supposed to be for her."_

Spike grabbed a dull sword from a rusted suit of armor on display, and jabbed it at the demon. The blade slid through the creatures eye like a knife through warm butter. The demon roared in pain.

Then…it ran, sword sticking out of it's face and all.

Spike chased it as far as the end of the street before it disappeared. Spike shrugged, not his problem now. Besides, it wouldn't get far with a sword in its eye. The vampire was more interested in the voices he'd heard during the fight. Those guys knew him, and worse…they knew Buffy.

When he stepped back through the antique shop's broken front entrance, the woman was gone. Spike headed toward the back door, but stopped when he heard the click of a gun being armed.

He froze and slowly lifted his hands. He turned to see the dark-haired woman pointing the gun at him with all the confidence of high-school aged Willow at a Biker bar.

"What was that thing?" she said, with a heavy french accent like warm honey.

"Don't rightly know. Demon of some sort."

She shook her head, "What do you mean a demon?"

Spike rolled his eyes, "Look, it was a demon alright? Nasty hell beast. Do us a favor and put the gun down."

She took a step closer, gun aimed right at his heart. Spike was impressed. "Who were those men with it? Friends of yours?"

"Didn't get a look at them. Don't know who they were."

Suddenly sirens blared. The woman's face flashed blue and red. Spike rolled his eyes, forgetting the gun. "You called the coppers? Bugger this. S'what I get for trying to help."

"Don't move." She commanded. Spike shoved her out of the way and made for the door. She must've recovered quickly, because a sudden pain shot through the vampire's arm as she pulled the trigger.

* * *

At sunrise, Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya were gathered around the kitchen island at Casa de Summers, deep in conversation. Judging by the dark circles under their eyes, they had been there a while.

"Any visits from the Sandman last night?" Xander asked.

Everyone exchanged confused glances.

"—Because the demon's invisible and he…never mind."

"Do you think she walked on clouds, wearing like…Birkenstocks…and playing a harp?" Anya said, returning them to the conversation they'd been avoiding. "Because those are just not flattering. The sandals…not the harp…I mean who doesn't look good with a harp?" She fell into awkward silence.

Xander shot her an impatient glare.

"What?" Anya defended, "I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. Right baby?"

"You are attractive and have many good qualities." Said Xander.

Tara came to the ex-demon's defense, "It's totally not stupid to wonder what it was like for Buffy. But it could've been one of any bazillion heavenly dimensions. All we know is that it was a good place…and she was happy there."

"We took her away from that." Said Willow, staring into the abyss of an empty coffee mug. "We wrecked it for her."

"We didn't wreck. We didn't know."  _Denial, thy name is Xander_ , the carpenter thought to himself.

"We didn't want to know." Willow shot back. "We were so selfish.  _I_ was so selfish."

"I just feel weird being sad that my friend's not dead…It's too mind boggling." Xander said, "So, I've decided to simplify the whole thing. Me like Buffy. Buffy's alive. So…me glad."

Tara said, "Not to be Miss Psycho-Pep-Squad, but we have got to stop obsessing about what we did, and try to make things better for Buffy."

"I'm with Miss Psycho-Pep-Squad." Anya said.

Willow shook her head, "How can we forget with this new demon? Just one more thing to add to the growing list of our mistakes."

Silence reigned again, until the back door opened and Spike rushed in, his duster raised over his head. The vampire mumbled under his breath.  _Bloody crazy bint. Who owns a gun in Sunnyhell?_

Xander, as if he had Spike radar, looked up the moment said vampire entered. His face turned accusing. "What are you doing here Spike?"

Spike lowered his duster. There was a dripping sound, like raindrops on glass, as a tiny puddle of red began forming at Spike's feet.

"—I mean we are having a private-" Xander paused, noticing the blood. "You're getting blood on our tile."

Tara's eyes widened. The good witch rushed over, "What happened?"

Spike shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nothing to worry your pretty head 'bout, Glinda."

"Is that a bullet wound?" Anya asked, always observant when it was inappropriate.

Spike looked even whiter than usual, which was an alarming sight. He began wavering on his feet. "Must've nicked an artery….lots of blood." He said before slipping to the floor.

Xander rolled his eyes. Perfect. Spike always had to put himself in the middle of things. Still, the thought of Spike getting shot in the arm made him giggle.


	11. No news is Good News

**Ch. 11:**

**No news is Good News**

"So let's go over this one more time. The demon just ran away?" Buffy said with an arched brow. She was perched on the edge of the couch beside a reclining Spike. The vampire had gone from radioactive glow to just a shade paler than usual, now that he'd had some blood and first aide.

"S'what I said isn't it? Ran off with a bloody sword sticking out of it's eye like an olive on a toothpick."

Buffy frowned. What kind of demon just abandons a fight? She glanced at Spike and her frown deepened. When Willow had barged into her room, in the wee hours of morning, saying Spike was hurt, Buffy's first reaction had been sheer terror. She genuinely could not handle the thought of him not being around. When had that happened?

Was it the baby, clouding her judgement? No, she suspected her feelings had been changing for a long time. Somewhere between him gently bandaging her bloody knuckles and the way he'd kissed her the night she told him about the baby—things had changed. She had changed…or was starting to at least.

Xander's voice shook her from her thoughts. "Let me get this straight. You heard a scream…and you decided to go help? Fess up Spike, what were you really doing there?"

"We already established that he was out patrolling, Xander." Buffy said, a bit harsher than she'd mean to. "If that's what he said happened, then that's what happened.

Xander held up his hands, "I'm just in shock. Spike doesn't help people out of the evilness of his heart."

"Saved your sizable arse more than a few times this summer, didn't I?"

"That was different." Xander argued. "You were just trying to win points with—"

"With who?" Spike interrupted, "Buffy was gone, not coming back..as far as I knew."

Buffy stood up, "I think I heard the door." She said, wanting to be away from the verbal wrestling match. She was getting tired of everyone constantly second guessing Spike's motives. He was there. He was helping. That was more than she could say of the other women living in her mother's house. Until Spike did something evil…Buffy was on board.

The Slayer opened the door for Giles and Angel, the latter cowering under a green umbrella.

The argument was still audible in the doorway.

" _What would you know about it Spike? You're not a part of this. You never were."_

" _I should thank you for that, by the way. Leaving me out of the loop, turned out to be the best thing you ever did for me. Means I can't be blamed for this mess. Maybe that's why she prefers my company these days."_

"I see the meeting has already commenced" Giles said with a sigh.

"Must be a Tuesday." Buffy said, shutting the door and following Giles and Angel into the living room.

Angel surveyed the bleary-eyed group, taking in the dark circles and blood stains, in Spike's case. "You all look like hell."

"Anya and I didn't get much sleep last night." Xander said. At everyone's disapproving glares, he quickly added, "Nightmares."

"Us too," Willow added, "with the nightmares."

"At least that's all it was. I'll take nightmares over a visit from the invisible Boogie Man any day." Tara said touching a hand to her still bandaged cheek, which she'd refused, on principle, to let Willow magically mend.

"What about you? Any nightmares?" Willow asked the others.

Angel and Giles shook their heads, while Buffy remained quiet and went back to her perch beside Spike…an action that didn't go unnoticed by the others.

"Must just be nerves." Said Willow, "We were all a bit shaken up after—"

"Not necessarily," Anya corrected. "The only people who had nightmares last night are the people who were directly involved in the resurrection. Doesn't seem like a coincidence to me."

"Anya's right." Giles said, "that is hardly something to ignore, and something we can discuss at some point. However, a more pressing question would be why is Spike bleeding on the couch?"

"Captain Peroxide tried to play hero last night and got himself shot by a little old lady." Xander's voice was full of laughter. Buffy glared in his direction, but the laughter continued.

"You got shot?" Angel joined in with Xander.

"Crazy bint called the cops. Had to get out of there quick like, and I spooked her. She thought I was with the guys that busted in the back."

"What?" Angel said.

"Perhaps you best start at the beginning." Said Giles.

Spike rolled his eyes. "I was out patrollin' and I heard some screaming down near the Magic Box. Thought it might be one of you lot. So, I went to suss it out. Saw it was comin' from the Antique Shop. Barged in to find some bint had been attacked. Had a scuffle with some demon—horned bugger, ugly too. Anyway, the demon ran off, but I heard some voices out back. Couldn't make out much of what they said but they knew me and the Slayer. Cops turned up and the barmy girl shot me when I ran."

Giles looked troubled. "Well, since you're out of commission for a bit, you and Dawn can work on identifying the demon. I'll drop by the Antique Shop on my way to the Magic Box this afternoon."

"What about you G-man? What did you and Angel find?" said Xander.

"Angel…you have the floor." Giles said, situating himself at a chair near the cabinet that held Joyce's liquor.

Angel paced before them, "Well," he said, "picking up where we left off yesterday…I mean before the Heaven—" He motioned toward Buffy.

 _Great, just remind me every chance you get._  The Slayer toyed with the hem of her shirt, avoiding the hesitant stares directed at her.

Spike snorted. "Poofter." Earning glares from the room and a giggle from Dawn.

"Play nice." Buffy whispered to him. He gave her a devilish grin that made her stomach flutter. Since when did Spike have that kind of effect on her?

"If memory serves, you prefer it when I play dirty." Spike whispered back, tucking his tongue behind his teeth.

Buffy kept her eyes away from his mouth. "It was one time Spike. Hardly enough to claim you  _know what I like_."

Spike lowered his voice to that rumbling purr, "Happy to learn any time, Slayer."

 _Oh God._  There were those butterflies again.

Angel cleared his throat. Buffy looked away from Spike and his tongue, to find all eyes still on her. "What? I missed that last part." She said.

"If you two are quite finished, Angel has important information." Giles eyes bore holes into the smirking vampire beside his Slayer.

Buffy ducked her head, "Sorry. Take it away."

Angel huffed but continued, "Like I said, there were two other successful resurrection cases. One was a satanic cult in the 1700's. I'm assuming you can guess which dimension they broke their target out of. Needless to say, there weren't any reports of demonic activity following that resurrection."

"Just random acts of charity." Xander chuckled and looked to the others for support, but found none. He clamped his mouth shut and motioned for Angel to go on.

"The second resserrection, was a bit alarming. It happened in London in 1888." Angel retrieved one of the parchment rolls from his black satchel; unrolling it and reading, "Merit Albright, a  _woman of ill-repute_ , living near Piccadilly, was killed in a fire the night of October 8th. However, sightings of her, seen near Surrey, started popping up a few months later." Angel set the parchment on the coffee table, up for grabs for whoever wanted to see for themselves. No one moved.

"Why is that alarming?" Anya asked, "Sounds like a heaping pile of not-helpful to me. I mean people die around here all the time…and then we see them out walking around the next day…they're called Vampires—look into it."

"There were sightings of her  _during the day_. People came up with a cover story about the fire—that she escaped, or something like that. But, as soon as she came back, gruesome reports started surfacing. A string of murders…"

"Dear Lord." Everyone turned to Giles, who was furiously polishing his still cracked glasses. "London, near Piccadilly, 1888—"

"—Jack the Ripper." Willow finished his thought.

Uncomfortable laughter bubbled out of Xander, gaining strength until he was red-faced. "Jack the Ripper? Seriously? Next you'e going to tell me Spiderman skinned that kid in the woods."

"He who lives in glass houses, Whelp. You're sharing the room with two vampires, an ex-demon, two witches, and the female equivalent of Superman." Said Spike.

"Valid argument." Xander conceded. "Please, continue."

"That's all we know. Records back then weren't what they are today. The Ripper murders might be completely unrelated….or they might not be."

"Well, at least it's something to go on. I can contact the Council. They are still looking into the pendant Spike found on Halloween, perhaps this will narrow the search." Said Giles.

Everyone began chattering about theories and to-do lists. Buffy glanced at Spike, who was unusually quiet throughout the conversation. "What's with the statue impression?" she asked.

"The name…Merit Albright. I knew her."

"The hooker? Why am I not surprised. She of the undead persuasion?"

"No, I mean  _I…William_  knew her."

Of course, Buffy had completely forgotten Spike's past. William was born in London, near Piccadilly and he was turned right around the time this Merit was killed. Angel must have made the connection too because he was staring at his Grandchilde, and his skin had gone pale.

Soon, the living room was emptying out. Giles was off to the Antique Shop and Magic Box with Anya. Xander was of to work. Willow and Tara were off to class. Angel was…staring right at her.

"Buffy, could I have a word with you?"

Buffy shot up from the couch. "Dawn, hold up a second! Sorry Angel, I need to tell Dawn Something."  _Kitchen, now._ Buffy mouthed to her sister.

Buffy scurried out of the room, leaving Angel and Spike alone.

"Merit Albright. Name ring any bells gramps?" Spike asked.

Angel looked sick to his stomach, "I remember." He said

"Just see that you do." Spike said cryptically. They both fell silent for a long tense moment.

Angel leaned against the wall and said, "So, Giles tells me you have a thing for Buffy?" Just like Angel to change the subject when he was uncomfortable.

Spike did his best to shrug, despite his wound. "Watcher ought to mind his own business."

"What's your angle Spike?"

Spike narrowed his eyes. What he wouldn't give to tell Angel the truth right then and there. To just say, I love Buffy and she's having my baby…not yours,  _mine_. That would wipe that patronizing smirk of the Poof's face once and for all. But, he didn't. Even Spike had more honor than that. It was Buffy's secret to reveal when she was ready. So, he settled for saying, "I don't have an angle. I'm just being there for her. Whatever she needs. Not running away like others have in the past."

"Oh, here we go." Angel said. "You have no right."

"Neither do you. Buffy's not your girl anymore. You can't come swooping in here expecting to find things the way you left 'em." Spike's anger faded, "She's been through a lot."

"Yeah." Angel said, donning an unreadable face of his own. "Yeah."

Spike rolled his eyes and let out a breath, "Thank-you…by the way." Spike's fingers twitched as he said the words. Thanking Angel was at the bottom of his list of priorities…but still. Angel was helping Buffy…and that indirectly benefitted Spike. "Thanks for doing what I asked with the money…and for looking into this mess."

"Buffy's in trouble. I'd do anything to help. I mean that Spike. Anything."

"Point taken." Said Spike. The vampire slouched back into the pillows, "Now, if you'll excuse me. I've got some mending to do…got shot today, don't know if you noticed."

* * *

In the kitchen, Dawn arched a brow at her sister.  _Looking more like Spike every day._  Buffy shook her head at that thought. Unbidden images of the little girl with Spike's eyes flitted through her mind again.

"What's up?" Dawn asked.

Buffy shrugged, "I just don't feel like a heart to heart with Angel at the moment. Since I've got you here though…I was wondering. Um, I have a doctor's appointment today. Spike was supposed to come with me but, he's sorta bed ridden…and maybe you could visit Janice while we are there, since the office is right next to the hospital." Buffy glanced down at her feet.

The slayer was almost knocked over when Dawn threw her arms around her. "Of course I'll go with you. You don't even have to ask! Auntie Dawn, reporting for duty."

"Whoa there, let's not get carried away…but, thanks, Dawnie." Buffy smiled at her sister. "It means a lot." Moments like this reminded her how lucky she was to have Dawn. If the monks hadn't created Dawn, Buffy would've had no family, after the death of her mother. No one should have to face life alone.

Of course she had her friends, but they didn't feel much like family these days. But, she'd always have Dawn…and, she supposed, Spike….and now, a mini Spike. For the first time since Tara had confirmed about the baby, Buffy felt a flutter of excitement. "I need to tell Moneybags, in there, the plan. You distract Angel, okay?"

Dawn wrinkled her nose, but nodded. Together they tromped into the living room.

"Where's Angel?" Buffy asked when she found Spike alone on the couch.

"Scampered off. Said he'd check in tonight."

That sounded suspicious, but the Slayer decided to let it go. "Well, that's just as well. I have my appointment today. You know, for the baby…and Dawn is going to come with me, since you're hurt."

"I'm not an invalid Pet. I'll come along too."

Buffy placed a hand on his shoulder. "Spike, you're still bleeding. I'm trying not to draw attention to myself. The last thing I need is you passing out in the lobby." She took his hand and placed it in her lap. "There will be lots of doctor's appointments."

With his other hand, Spike reached up and ran his fingers through her golden hair, "and I will be at every one. This is most likely the only shot I have at this father gig, and I'll be damned if I miss anything."

Buffy smiled. She had been right about Spike, he was going to be a great father. She leaned down and kissed him. She meant for it to be a kiss goodbye, but Spike had other plans. He threaded his hands in her hair and deepened the kiss until she could feel it in her toes. Buffy wrapped her hands around his neck, forgetting his shoulder. He gasped when she leaned against the bullet wound.

"Sorry." She said.

"No worries, Love. I get off on a little pain with my pleasure."

"—And then he goes and says something like that." Buffy rose from the couch.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Dawn asked, peeking through her fingers at the blonde couple on the couch.

"All clear, Nibblet. Oh, Buffy, my wallet is in the pocket of my duster."

"Spike, you've paid for enough lately."

"S'not for you. That's my kid in there. I'm paying."

"Can't argue with that." Said Dawn, "We should hit the mall on the way home." She teased.

"Go ahead if you like. Got more than I know what to do with."

"I was kidding Spike."

Buffy watched them teasing each other, unaware of the huge smile on her face. She cast a meaningful look at the bleached vamp, sprawled across the couch with a "Kiss the Librarian" mug in one hand and a remote control in the other. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't find words. Her child already had a better father than her own had been. For that, she would be forever grateful. "We're gonna be late." Was all she managed to come up with. She thought about Dawn's suggestion that they go to the mall. Maybe that wasn't a bad idea. If she couldn't find the words to thank Spike, maybe she could find the next best thing.

Buffy found Spike's duster, hanging by the front door. She fished around in the pockets for his wallet. What she found instead was a ring box. She didn't open it. She didn't want to. Just the thought of what might be inside sent her into a panic attack.

Admitting that the night they'd spent together had meant  _something…_ whatever it was, had been one thing. But, a ring box was another.

Luckily, Buffy was very good at forgetting about things she didn't want to deal with.

* * *

Buffy hated doctor's offices. They were so sterile and full of…beige. At least Dawn was with her. If she'd been alone, she might've just turned right back around.

The bell tinkled when they walked in. A few people looked up, but most continued reading their Cosmo's and Vanity Fair's. Buffy's eyes frantically searched for familiar faces. The last thing she needed was to be recognized at an OBGYN. Satisfied that she was in the clear, she made her way to the reception desk while Dawn scouted out seats.

"Can I help you?"

Buffy fidgeted with her purse, "I—I have an appointment. Summers, Buffy."

The receptionist glanced at the computer screen, "There you are, 2:30 with Dr. Gayle. Congratulations! You must be so excited."

 _Could she be any louder. Why not just broadcast it on the intercom?_ "Is there a co-pay?" Buffy asked quickly.

The receptionist frowned at Buffy's lack of enthusiasm. "$20…and you will need to fill these out." The woman said, now all business. She handed Buffy a clipboard and a giant pen disguised as a flower.

Dawn had found them seats as far from the other women in the waiting room as she could manage.

"Think there's a vending machine around here?" Dawn asked when her sister sat down.

"You don't have to stay. Why don't you go grab something in the cafeteria and swing by Janice's room?"

"No, I want to be here with you…but my tummy  _is_  a rumblin'. I saw a vending machine down the hall. I will literally run there and back. K?"

Buffy giggled, "Just go, before you starve."

Dawn skipped off and Buffy set to work on the paperwork.

Ten minutes later, the Slayer was drumming her hands on her clipboard, watching the clock crawl slowly passed 2:30 pm. Apparently, the doctor was running behind. A few moments earlier, a woman about Giles's age had come and sat herself beside Buffy. There were almost a dozen open seats, but this woman had chosen to sit right beside Buffy. She was one of  _those_ women. Buffy hated  _those_  women.

"Is this your first?" The woman asked. She had a very pleasant voice with a heavy accent. It reminded Buffy of...baguettes.

"Hmm…oh yes."

"I can always tell. It's the nervous tapping that gave you away."

Buffy looked at her hands, and immediately folded them in her lap.

"It's okay to be nervous. I was too."

Buffy nodded, trying to make it clear that she was not here to make friends. But the woman was persistent.

"Where's Daddy? At work?"

"Mmm hmm." Buffy said, eyes forward.

"I'm Alaina." The woman held out her hand, making it impossible for Buffy not to respond.

Buffy shook Alaina's hand, "Joan."  _Joan?_ Where had that come from? Buffy Summers: needs a secret identity…chooses, Joan. Buffy gave a quick obligatory glance at the woman who called herself Alaina. Shoulder-length dark hair, green eyes…she looked just like…

Buffy suddenly felt her ever present nausea rear up. The last few days, she had been getting better at controlling it, but seeing someone brought back from the dead— other than her— was jarring. The Slayer shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

"Morning sickness?" Alaina could not take a hint. "Here, just so happens I have the cure." She dug in her purse and pulled out what looked like a cough drop. "Ginger candy. I lived on them when I was pregnant. Now, I always have a few handy. Especially when I travel. I get car sick, plane sick…I'm basically allergic to vacations." Alaina laughed at her own joke.

Buffy reluctantly took the candy, grateful to see Dawn hurrying back. She needed to be far away from Alaina as she could.

"Buffy, I'm so sorry—" Dawn began, but she was interrupted.

"Hello, I'm Alaina—"

_"Summers, Buffy."_

Buffy sprang to her feet before Dawn could see the familiar face. "That's me! Buffy "Joan" Summers. Come on Dawn." She grabbed her sister by the arm and practically ran to the nurse.

* * *

"Get undressed and put this on. The gown opens to the front. Doctor Gayle should be in shortly." The nurse shut the door behind her.

Buffy quickly undressed and sat up on the bed, shivering.

"Relax. This is exciting!" Dawn smiled.

"Slow down Dawnie. For all we know this could be some fanged hell beast." Buffy regretted her words. She knew it was a baby. She could feel it. Still, the Slayer wasn't quite ready to be hosting a baby shower. She needed time.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "This is the best thing that has happened in...like forever. A little tiny baby, what's not to love?"

Dr. Gayle knocked and walked in. She had grey hair and a kind face. Her presence relaxed Buffy at once. "Good afternoon Miss Summers. I hear congratulations are in order."

The petite blonde nodded.

"Well, let's get down to business. Alright, let's see." Dr. Gayle glanced at Buffy's clipboard, "What was the first day of your last period?"

Buffy's eyes went wide. "Um…I don't—"

"That's alright. Around when do you think you conceived?"

 _Before I died,_ didn't seem like the most appropriate response. "No idea."

Dr. Gayle frowned. "Alright. Why don't we just do a quick ultrasound and see if we can tell how far along you are?"

A few moments later, Buffy's flat stomach was covered in cold blue jelly and Dr. Gayle was gliding an ultrasound wand across the surface.

Dawn squeezed Buffy's hand and looked excitedly at the screen, practically bouncing in her ballet flats.

"See that?" Dr. Gayle pointed to a shape on the screen. "That's your baby."

"So small." Buffy heard the words leave her mouth, but her mind was some place else. A baby. It was real.  _Can't argue with pictures._

Dr. Gayle nodded, "Not that small. It looks like you're about twelve weeks along already. So, we will put your due date on April 3rd." Dr. Gayle pressed a button and a steady  _thump thump_  came from the machine.

"Is that the heartbeat?" Dawn asked.

Dr. Gayle nodded.

Buffy squeezed Dawn's hand and smiled. She didn't realize she was crying until she felt the tear drops rolling down her neck. Poor Spike, he was missing it. Although, he could probably hear the heartbeat all the time, with his super-hearing.  _Sneaky Vampire._

"Would you like some pictures to take with you?" Dr. Gayle asked.

Buffy scrubbed at her eyes and nodded. "Yes, that would be great. Thank you."

The rest of the appointment went by quickly and soon, Buffy and Dawn were on their way to visit Janice and then head to the mall, unaware of the black car following them, and the speechless Vamp in the driver's seat…

* * *

The antique shop was closed when Giles stopped by. So, he went straight to the Magic Box, figuring he'd check back again after work.

"Giles, phone." Anya said the moment he entered the shop.

Giles took the phone, "Magic Box. Rupert Giles speaking."

" _This is Quinten Travers."_

"Oh, hello Sir."

" _I'm calling with some information about your amulet. What do you know about The Holy Order?"_

"You mean Angels? About as much as you do, I wager. The information is well—sparse to put it mildly."

Travers was silent at the end of the line for a beat.  _"Well, that amulet you've got. Bonafide Holly Order Relic. An angel's calling card, if you will."_

Giles pondered that for a moment. A week ago, he might have laughed, but with the recent revelation that Buffy had come back from Heaven, nothing seemed too far-fetched. It would certainly explain why spike got strange vibes when he touched the symbol. An angel, huh? That actually made a nice change from the constant barrage of hell-beasts.

"Well, I have to say, that's a relief. It doesn't explain the recent murders in Sunnydale, but it's a relief nonetheless."

" _I don't think I need to remind you to proceed with caution. The Powers That Be and their disciples aren't always as holy as they let on."_

"Duly noted, Sir. Thank you for your call." Giles almost hung up, but then a thought came back, "Oh, Travers. We...um...found some information about the murders."  _Now, how to say this without revealing what Willow did._ "There was a woman, Merit Albright. She may have been connected with the um...Ripper murders." Giles said, aware of how ridiculous it sounded. "Would you mind terribly, just seeing what you might turn up?"

Travers grumbled, " _Have it your way then. I'll look, but I don't have time to be wasting on your reckless American gang."_

"Much appreciated." Giles said sarcastically. He handed the phone back to Anya, who had been staring with wide eyed interest throughout the call.

"An angel? That's good news right?" the ex-vengeance demon chirped.

"Is privacy one of those human customs you are unfamiliar with? I must speak with Xander about that." Giles grumbled. "To answer your question, I have no idea. Until we track this being down, we have no way of knowing if it is good or bad." Though, this was Sunnydale…and if there was one thing Giles had learned in his tenure here, it was that the news is almost never good.

 


	12. Alaina

**Ch. 12:**

**Alaina**

They'd been at the mall for almost an hour and all Buffy had to show for it was a Sex Pistols lunch box. Why did she always have to be emotionally-unavailable-girl? Her feelings toward Spike were changing. She wanted to tell him that, but she wan't so good with words….which left gifts. But, she had no idea what Spike even liked. Outside of kitten poker, booze and 80's Punk bands…Spike was a Rubik's Cube.  _Too much time in the gift shop is messing with my reasoning skills._

Dawn wasn't faring much better. So far she'd picked out a 'World's Greatest Dad' mug and new zippo.

"Why don't you just write him a really nice card?" Dawn suggested as she browsed through some books on a display.

"Because writing a card is the same as telling him how I feel. Both involve words. Buffy and words are un-mixy. I'll wind up putting my foot in my mouth."

"That might still be better than a Rubik's Cube."

Buffy quickly set down the items in her hands.

Dawn said, "Why do you have to get him anything? You have the ultrasound pictures. I think, that's all he'd want."

The pictures…of course.

"Dawn, you're the best. Come on!" Buffy grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her toward the door.

* * *

Giles walked into the Antique Shop, feigning nonchalance.

"Bonjour. Can I help you find something?"

Giles looked up, surprised to hear another accented voice besides his own or Spike's. Foreigners were a rare commodity in Sunnydale. The Watcher followed the voice to its source…and stopped in frozen horror.  _Jenny_. His mind played the name on loop like a prayer. It couldn't be. Giles studied her patient expression. There was no recognition in her green eyes. Giles heard Travers's voice in his mind, " _The Powers-that-be aren't as holy as they let on."_

Giles fumbled over himself deciding how to begin, "Hello—" he waited for it, the moment when she would  _see_  him. See him and understand. But it never came.

"I'm um—Rupert Giles. I heard there was some trouble here last night." Jenny's look-alike was slowly moving away from him. Giles added, "I own The Magic Box, just on the block over. Call it concern over a fellow shopkeeper."

Relief washed over her. She gave him a knowing smirk, "Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. The police are looking into it, but they seem to think it was a random burglary. They said that whoever did it is unlikely to come back to the same street." Her smile was so gentle, it was hard to imagine her shooting Spike…a sight Giles was sorely disappointed to have missed.

"So, you think it was a burglar then?" Giles said, he meant to say  _"I've missed you every day."_

She shrugged. Such a simple gesture. No meaning behind it..and yet a dagger in his English heart.

"You didn't see anything—strange?" Giles prodded, as much to keep her talking as to gather information.

She tilted her head, studying the Watcher intently. She seemed to come to a decision and glanced around to be sure they were alone. She lowered her voice and leaned toward Giles. "A man came in after the burglars. He said it was a…demon." She laughed at herself, "I'm sure that sounds crazy."

"You'd be surprised." Giles fought the urge to pollish his glasses. "I do run a magic shop after all."

"I suppose you do. I'm so sorry, Rupert, did you say? I'm Alaina Burne." She held out her hand, "Forgive my rudeness. I'm still a bit shaken."

"Not at all." Giles forced a smile. It all made sense. The Powers were mocking him. Sending Jenny back as someone else. Hell, maybe she was the demon they were after. Wouldn't that just be the last nail in the coffin. Willow had no idea what she'd done…every day that was becoming more clear.

Giles said, "Well, if the police don't find anything…or if you have any further trouble. The Magic Box door is always open."

There was that gentle smile again, making Giles fidget. "And if I wanted to drop by…for a non-demon related chat? Shopkeeper to shopkeeper?"

The glass-polishing could no longer be avoided, "Well, yes—I mean, of course. I'd love to chat." What was he saying? Why was he inviting torture? Talking to her face, seeing her eyes void of any emotion…

The bell on the door chimed as a young couple walked in. "I'm sorry, but I need to—"

"By all means." Giles gladly walked to the door. "Pleasure meeting you Ms. Burne."

"Alaina." She said and waved goodbye.

* * *

Buffy could hardly contain her excitement when they reached her house. She bounced through the door and raced into the living room…only to find it empty. "Spike?" she called to an empty house.

By the time Dawn came in, Buffy was in full Slayer mode. "That sneaky, peroxided, British…sneak!"

"Maybe he just got bored here all by himself." Dawn suggested, noticing the empty couch. "I bet he just went out to buy some more blood—or drop by the crypt."

"Innocent optimism…that's what I love about you Dawn." Buffy sighed, "I'm not even upset that he's gone. I just wanted to give him our present while we had the chance. You know, before the whole gang convenes."

Dawn gave a conspiratorial smirk. "You know, there is a simple solution to this problem. You could  _tell_   _them_  the truth. Besides, at twelve weeks, it's not like you can go on hiding it much longer."

"Don't remind me." Buffy said. She walked into the kitchen a noticed an ungodly bright orange post-it on the counter.

_Summers girls. Magic Box—5:00pm._

— _Xan Man_

"We've been summoned." She said.

"See, I bet that's where Spike went."

Buffy still grumbled, "Injured Vampires don't belong at research parties." The slayer opened the front door and marched out.

Dawn's grin widened, "Awe, look at you…you're worried about him."

A chorus of  _"Am not!"_ and  _"Are too's"_  followed the sisters down Revello Drive.

As did a black car, gleaming in the sunlight.

* * *

Willow knocked on the training room door for the hundredth time that afternoon. "Come on Giles. At least give us some sign that you're alive."

"What's going on?" Xander asked, walking into the shop.

"We're not sure." Tara said, going to sit at the research table beside Anya.

"Giles came back from the Antique Shop at lunch, grabbed a bunch of books and locked himself in the training room." Anya said frankly.

Willow tried again. "Giles, come out. You're sorta freaking us all out here."

Anya glanced at her fiancé and mouthed,  _"He's finally lost it."_  And went back to her bridal magazine.

Xander sat down beside his bride-to-be. "This is very un-Giles-like behavior. I wonder what's gotten into him?"

Willow looked up as the bell over the door chimed. The color left her cheeks. "I bet I can answer that question." She said.

The others looked up in unison. Tara and Anya saw an attractive forty-something with dark hair and green eyes. Willow and Xander saw a ghost.

"I'm sorry. Is this a bad time? I can come back later." Said the new arrival in an unfamiliar accent.

"Miss Calendar—" Willow began, but Giles appeared in the doorway, as if summoned by the new voice, and cut Willow off.

"Miss Burne." He emphasized the name with a hard glance at Willow and Xander. "By all means, come in."

Xander and Willow looked at one another, even more confused.

"Alaina, please." She corrected with a smile.

"Of course," Giles turned to the stunned faces at the research table. "Everyone, this is Alaina Burne. She is a new employee of the Antique Shop down the block. She's the woman who was attacked."

Xander perked up at that. "You're the one who shot Spike?" He burst out laughing.

"Yuck it up, Whelp." Spike melted out of the shadows near the back of the shop, making them all jump.

"Good Godfrey Cambridge, Spike. How long have you been lurking there?"

The vampire dropped into an empty chair and swung his combat boots up on the table. "Just got here in time for meet the teacher."

Giles cleared his throat, "Alaina, this is Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya…and, er, Spike."

Green eyes locked on the vampire, she said, "How…but…I  _shot_  you. How are you—"

"—Healed?" Spike sniffed, "Vampire, here, Pet."

"What!" She gasped. "Look, I'm sorry I shot you. I thought you were with—those men. But, I would appreciate if you didn't mock me."

Spike's face quickly morphed, his demon coming forth. "Not mocking."

With another weary sigh Giles ushered her to a seat. "Why don't you make yourself at home. This is going to be a long conversation."

* * *

At Sunset, Angel parked his car at Giles's flat and headed out on foot toward the Magic Box. He walked a few blocks, constantly glancing over his shoulder. He couldn't pinpoint why, but he'd felt a presence with him since his arrival in Sunnydale.

Maybe it was his past, rearing its ugly head. The name Merit Albright brought up a host of unpleasant thoughts. Yes, he knew Merit Albright, because he'd killed her, the first time. The question was, who brought her back and why?

There is was again, that sense that something was there. Breath on his neck making his skin feel like ants were scurrying across the surface.

"Who's there?" Angel barked, looking this way and that.

" _Don't you remember?"_ said the invisible voice.

Angel opened his mouth to respond, but he choked on the words. A rush of air flowed into his mouth and down his throat. It burned like fire. When he again opened his eyes, Angel was no where to be found…

* * *

Buffy and Dawn walked in just after sunset. Buffy was relieved to see Spike sitting at the table in one piece. Then, her eyes found a dark haired woman and froze. Sitting there, amongst her friends, was none other than Jenny…or Alaina…or whatever she was calling herself these days. It didn't matter…the only thing that mattered was that Jenny/Alaina knew her secret.

The Slayer tried to catch Spike's eye. If she could get him to distract everyone, she could just run…but it was too late. The stupid bell gave them away. Buffy hated that bell.

"Ah Buffy, we've been waiting for you. Now, that we are all here, I think we have some new developments to discuss."

Buffy took a backwards step toward the door, but Dawn blocked her path. The teen arched a brow and placed her body in the doorway, making it clear that Buffy wasn't going anywhere.

Alaina looked up at the Slayer, "Joan! What a small world."

"Yep, the smallest." Buffy said. She clapped her hands together, "So, research mode. What have we got?"

"Wait, you two know each other?" Xander asked.

"Why did she call you Joan?" Anya curled her lip with clear distaste at the name.

Alaina and Buffy spoke at once.

"We met this afternoon at the Doctor' office."

"We're old friends." Buffy pushed Spike's feet off the table and sat beside him. "Anyone seen Angel?"

Clearly no one was buying it. The all shared suspicious glances.

"Why were you at the doctor? Are you sick?" Giles began.

"Why didn't you tell us?" came from Xander.

"Western Medicine. Shwestern Shmedicine. I could whip up a cure." Willow.

Anya's, "You're pregnant aren't you. I thought so with all the gut spewing," was what brought on the silence.

Spike quickly jumped in to rescue his Slayer, "She just went to get checked out s'all. Wouldn't you if you'd recently clawed your way up from six feet under? Post-mortem check up's are vital, you know."

It was a good cover. One that would've worked if Alaina hadn't asked about the stupid Ginger candy.

"Did it help with the nausea? I have more." She smiled, completely unaware of what she'd just done.

There was a long pause. The longest in the history of Scooby Research Parties. Buffy studied her fingernails in her lap. Spike studied her.

"Buffy?" Giles's voice was unsure.

Xander once again commenced awkward laughter. "Pregnant. The Buffster? That's just…that's not…is it Buffy?"

"Oh my goddess." The words left willows mouth in one soft whisper.

"Was I not supposed to say anything? Joan, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I'll just stop talking now." Said Alaina.

Every nerve in her body screamed "Run!" Try as she might, she couldn't get her legs to move. This was probably the best intro she could've asked for…it was already lying there in the open, all she had to do was nod her head yes.

The Slayer's shoulders slumped. "She's right. I was at the doctor today."

"And it turned out to be a nasty stomach bug…right Buff?" Xander's eyes pleaded.

She shook her head. "I'm pregnant."

A litany of "HowWhoWhyWhen?" followed.

"Slow down." Dawn said firmly, "One question at a time."

Buffy placed a hand on Dawn's shoulder. "Thanks, Dawnie. I can take this from here." She fixed her hazel eyes on her friends, her family. "It happened before Glory…Will's spell kinda got things moving again and now—wham. Baby Buffy." She gave a nervous laugh. She wanted to look at the vampire on her left for support, but she knew what she'd find written on his handsome face. She could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He was just as eager to hear where her explanation would go.

"So that's the When, and the How." Xander counted on his fingers. "That just leaves, Who, and Why?"

 _Now or never._  Buffy told herself as she took a deep breath…and laced her fingers through Spike's, pulling him to stand beside her.

It took a moment for realization to make its rounds, as, one by one, their eyes shifted from confusion, to realization, to horror—in some cases.

The next sound heard was that of Xander's chair clattering to the floor as he tumbled backwards, unconscious.


	13. Bargains

**Ch. 13:**

**Bargains**

"Well, I—for one—should like to know how in God's name this happened!" Giles spat. He paced the shop, which was now empty except for Buffy and the vampire in question. "I mean—" He pinched his nose, "you've shown poor judgement before but this is—this…"

A low growl emanated from Spike.

The others, Alaina included, had made excuses and left. Anya, to accompany Xander to the hospital—he'd hit his head on the ladder when he fainted. The witches to class, at seven at night, and Alaina…to do whatever it was that non-scoobies did in Sunnydale.

"We've explained it a half-dozen times already, Watcher." Spike ran hand through his hear, resisting the urge to growl some more, or break something. "The little witch did her mojo and, presto! S'all there is to it."

"I highly doubt Willow's spell, reckless though it was, included the words 'Buffy shall fall pregnant with the spawn of William the Bloody'." Giles replaced clean glasses on his nose.

Buffy rose from her chair. She'd been silent throughout most of the conversation. "Giles." The men fell silent. "I need you to just hear me out." Giles tried to object but she shushed him. "I can't explain what happened that night, nor will I try. It's done. It's over…and I wouldn't change it if I could. I am pregnant, with Spike's baby…and I know you don't want to hear this, but I got pregnant the good old fashioned way—plus or minus some resurrection magic."

Giles rolled his eyes, looking like every boyfriend subjected to repeat screenings of Titanic. Spike, on the other hand, looked like he'd just been hit on the head with a baseball bat.

Buffy continued, "When I came back, I was drowning…and no one saw it—except for Spike. I don't blame you. It's hard to emphasize with rising from the grave, unless you've done it yourself—which vampire." She nudged Spike, "You may not understand, but really, you should. Think about it Giles, I was never normal…and being risen from the dead certainly didn't make me anymore so. Spike and I have more in common than I'd care to admit sometimes."

Giles frowned. Buffy waited for the argument that didn't come. Finally, a quiet English voice said, "You told me once, long ago, that your worst fear was being turned. Dying and coming back…In many ways, it's ironic…isn't it?"

"What do you mean? Not feeling the irony…" Buffy said.

Giles let out a weary laugh, "The powers that be have an odd sense of humor. Your worst nightmare was fulfilled…by your own best friend. You are risen from the dead."

"I didn't come back as a vampire. Key difference there, Giles."

"No, but you're in love with one— _again_ , I might add."

Spike's ears perked up. He wasn't in the habit of breathing, but he found himself holding his breath in anticipation of Buffy's answer.

The slayer squared her hips and planted her fists on her waist. "Sometimes the things that scare us the most are the things that we need."

Giles sat at the table across from a beaming Spike. "I will not pretend to like this but…I won't stand in the way. I've stood in your way for too long. If you're ever going to find your way, I have to let go." The Watcher stared off into nothing and said, "Mark my words, you're making a mistake…but I'm done trying to stop you. Maybe making this mistake will help you realize that this is not the answer. It never was."

"Or maybe you'll realize that people can change…vampires too." Buffy laced her fingers through Spike's, "Come on, we are done here."

Spike didn't argue, he allowed himself to be pulled out the door and down the street in peaceful silence. Or so he thought until Buffy burst into tears between 1st Ave and Maine.

"What's all this luv?"

Buffy sniffled and kept walking. "I just can't believe that's it. Everyone knows. It's done."

"How does that make you feel?"

"It's just a lot…but I'll get over it. I always do."

* * *

Giles stayed in the dim lamplight of the Magic Box well after everyone left. So many thing fought for control in his mind.

His slayer was pregnant.

His worst fear had come to life in more ways than one.

He'd lost her…but she'd come back.

She'd come back changed.

At some point during that monologue he had stopped thinking about Buffy. Another familiar face from the past was now on his mind.

Jenny.

The symbol was a Holy Order Relic. An angel's calling card. An angel had landed at their feet in the form of Jenny Calendar. Then he thought of Traver's warning. The powers that be are not always as holy as they let on. It was a warning he needed to heed now when all of his body was screaming— _run to her. Cling and don't let go. Don't fail a second time._

But really what did he know of her? Was this even Jenny or someone else inside her body…a cruel joke.

"It's not her…but it could be."

Giles spun in his chair.  _Had I been talking out loud?_  He wondered.

"Relax England. I can sense what you're thinking. Comes with the gig." A man in a fedora and a cheap suit faded into being at the table beside Giles.

"Whistler. I should've known you'd be along at some point."

The powers messenger cracked a smile. "Always nice to be remembered. I'm here to warn you."

"You usually are." Giles slumped in his chair. "Why her? Why now?"

"Because it's never easy. Because it's not supposed to be." Whistler folded his hands on the table. "She's not your Jenny right now. If you want her to be, you have to set her free."

"What do you mean?"

"When Buffy checked out of heaven…so did one of her former foes. Someone she and Jenny are both connected to." Whistler didn't look up to see the wheels in Giles's head reeling.

"Angelus? I don't understand, I thought Angelus lived inside Angel…they are one in the same."

Whistler nodded. "That was true..until now. Willow's spell had repercussions that the powers can't even forsee. It's bad Giles. Think of it this way…what if Angelus found a way to escape? What if he could roam free?"

"The skinned bodies? He's looking for a host?"

"They both are."

Giles frowned. "Can you just say it. This cryptic nonsense is getting us nowhere."

"Buffy wasn't alone when she checked out of heaven…"

The color faded from Giles's face, "The baby…"

"One checks out of heaven…one out of hell."

"So Angelus isn't alone."

Whistler nodded. "We sent Jenny here because you need her help, but she's on borrowed time. It was the only way we could get her here without upsetting the balance even more. Remind her before it's too late."

"How do I even begin to—" but Whistler was gone. Giles let his head drop to the table. Unable to form a thought for the first time in his life.

 


	14. Reckoning

**Chapter 14:**

**Reckoning**

On a lonely highway, a dented sign that read: "Welcome to Sunnydale," swayed in the wind. Three young men stood nearby, shivering in the Autumn chill.

"Why here? Why couldn't we have had our meeting somewhere…oh, say…indoors!" The first complained.

"Because this is iconic! We are going to remember this moment for the rest of our lives. What sounds better, the night our lives changed outside the Doublemeat…or this?" The second challenged.

"Guys, shut-up. He's here." The third said, quieting his friends.

"Where?" The first two said in unison.

Andrew's hand shook as he pointed at the weeds along the highway. They watched as the brush parted for the invisible being that tromped through.

"Do you have it?" The voice was like smoke seeping into their lungs.

With a vigorous nod, Jonathan said, "Here it is, a lock of hair from each of them." He held out a plastic bag with several hair samples, one bleached, one long and dark, one golden.

"And what of the Angel?"

Warren took over, "Well, we got interrupted. Spike—"

"I don't want to hear excuses. Without the talisman this is useless."

"Well, we—"

"Find it!" The footsteps began to retreat.

"Hey!" Warren yelled, "What about our reward? We did what you wanted. We got the hair, which eww by the way, and we broke into the Antique Shop. It's not our fault if the talisman wasn't there."

Only the wind answered his plea.

The three looked at each other in fear.

"Stop staring and get to work. You heard the guy. We have to find that thing. I'm not losing my chance at immortality over a pice of scrap metal." Warren shoved past the other two and started toward the van.

* * *

"No!"

Angel's bloodshot eyes sprang open. Where was he? He squinted at the dirt ceiling above his head, scratched his nails into the dirt earth beneath. A cave? He sat up, and immediately wished he hadn't. The cavern swayed in time with the pounding behind his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was Buffy. He'd been following her and had seen her and Dawn…coming out of a doctor's office. A certain kind of doctor. Buffy was pregnant. He'd overheard them giggling over pictures. The memories came back into focus.

Buffy was pregnant and then…he must've passed out from shock. That had to be it.

But it still didn't explain the cave.

With careful movements Angel pulled himself to his feet. He felt along the dark cave wall, his vampire vision only helping enough to guide him along. He followed his senses to the moonlight at the cave's entrance and looked around. He was on the outskirts of town, near the mansion.

Odd. This was a place he tended to avoid as a rule.

Yet, here he was…covered in…was that blood?

Angel looked at his hands, brow furrowed. Thick red like molasses seeped into the lines on his palms. On his clothes.

He needed to find the others, fast.

* * *

The house on Revello Drive held its breath. Buffy sat on the sofa beside her now-lifeline. Dawn beside him. Willow and Tara sat in the armchairs facing the trio.

Spike, always the one to burst when uncomfortable, clasped his hands together and said, "We might as well talk this out. Staring at each other all night s'not going to get us anywhere. Just say it Red…we all know you're thinkin' it."

Willow didn't look angry. Her eyes were hollow. Hollow as the slayers had been the night of her return. Hollow as they'd all felt when they discovered what they'd done. Those hollow eyes slipped away from Buffy and drifted to her girlfriend. "You knew, didn't you?"

"I—sensed it—in her aura, but it wasn't my place to tell you."

"How long?"

Tara looked confused.

"How long have you known?" Willow's voice grew firmer.

"She's only known for a few days." Dawn piped up from the couch.

"—And you knew." Willow gave a vague wave toward the teen.

Buffy frowned, "She's my sister, Will. Of course I had to tell her."

"But not me." Willow's lip quivered, but her eyes darkened, "I remember a time when you told me everything. Before  _him._ " Willow turned her glare to Spike.

The vampire, for his part, spread his hands in surrender. "Oy, I wouldn't be throwin' stones, Red. You ripped the Slayer out of Heaven, her best friend no less, if it caused a rift between you two…that's on you." He shouldn't have said it. He felt it as the words left his mouth. He didn't dare glance at Buffy, already certain she was furious. Spike did the only thing he could do. Got up and went to the door. "I need a fag." He said as the door clicked shut behind him.

Buffy sat there, unsure what he wanted to say, or if she wanted to bother trying to explain this yet again. The more she thought about it, Willow and Xander were the only loose ends. Giles agreed to back off, Dawn and Tara were supportive…that only left the two original Scoobies.

Buffy was saved from the conversation when they heard crashing in the kitchen. They all rushed in, Spike included, to find Angel panting…and covered in blood.

"What the hell?" Dawn said, followed by " _Dawnie, Langugae!"_ from the adults and a chuckle from Spike.

"Buffy." Angel rushed to the slayer, "I—I don't remember. I was following you—I mean I was, doing nothing important and then it all gets fuzzy. The next thing I can remember I woke up in a cave near the mansion…like this." Angel indicated the blood stains on his clothes.

"Slow down." Buffy said, backing herself onto a barstool. "You followed me?"

"Buffy, focus on the blood." Angel said, "covered in blood—no memory."

"Right, sorry." Buffy sighed.

Spike intervened, "I don't know what there is to do about it. Unless someone turns up with fang marks in their neck…"

"I would never!" Angel yelled.

Spike continued, "Just sayin', with all that's going on right now, who knows what kind of creepy crawly got a hold of you."

"Spike's right. It could've been the Sandman…" Tara wrinkled her nose at the nickname the Scoobies had assigned their nighttime visitor.

Spike feigned a somber expression, "Best go back to LA and wait it out…for your own safety." Buffy elbowed her vampire.

"That's enough. Angel isn't going anywhere. We need to stay together until we figure out what's going on. If that thing can take control of us whenever it wants…well, that's a problem. We should get Giles."

Tara picked up the phone. "I'll call him."

"Angel, why don't you go upstairs and get cleaned up? No offense, but you smell like death…or  _more_ like death. Spike you have some things Angel could borrow, don't you?"

"Like Hell—"

"I have clothes in my car…it's parked down the street." Angel spoke to his blood-spattered boots, unable to look the slayer in the eye.

Spike's blue eyes turned to ice, "Right, because you've been following the Slayer around like the crazy stalker you are."

"Alright that's enough." Dawn stamped her foot. She pointed at the bigger, broodier vampire, "You, upstairs." The teen rounded on the bleach blonde, "You, go get the clothes from Angel's car." Last she pointed at her sister, "You, eat something and relax until Giles gets here. Meeting adjourned."

Spike tried to argue, but Buffy whispering  _"Play nice, and I will too…"_ was enough to send him skipping off down the street in a good mood. Angel, who Buffy tended to forget  _also_  had vampiric hearing, sulked up the stairs to shower.

* * *

Giles turned the strange symbol over in his hands. Make her remember? He was sure Jenny—the  _real_  Jenny—was connected to the talisman, but how? Short of smashing the thing with a hammer or rubbing it like a magic lamp, Giles was at a loss. The sound of the phone ringing near the register startled him out of his stupor.

He made his way over to answer.

"Hello—oh, Tara….say no more, I'm on my way." Giles hung up and frantically set about shutting down the store. He turned off the lamp, scooped up the talisman and raced to the door. He briefly pondered stopping by the Antique Shop as he locked the store, just to check on Alaina, but thought better of it. She'd had enough surprises for one night.

He turned around and crashed straight into the girl in question.

"Well, I suppose that answers that question." He didn't mean to say it aloud.

"Beg your pardon?" Alaina said.

"N—nothing." Giles nervously shifted on his feet, "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, you're on your way out…it can wait until tomorrow."

"Right. Well, I'll see you then." Giles started walking, but Alaina ran to catch up.

"Actually, would you mind if I walked with you? I usually ride my bike to the shop but…I guess I'm still shaken up. Robberies, Vampires…Sunnydale isn't what I expected."

 _Now's not a good time_  was an appropriate answer…what he should've said. What he actually said was, "By all means…but do you mind if we walk quickly?"

* * *

Spike lifted Buffy's feet off the couch enough to sit down. The slayer quickly propped her feet in his lap.

"Thank-you for getting Angel's clothes." Buffy said between sips of her very pregnancy-friendly-nutritious milkshake.

"Just because you're the mother of my child doesn't mean I won't bite you."

Buffy rolled her eyes and tossed Spike the remote. "Something other than soap operas or the news please."

As Spike searched for a decent program, Angel plodded down the stairs in fresh clothes, his usually immaculate hair still dripping. He went to an armchair and sat frowning at the blonde pair on the couch. One thing had become increasingly clear in his memories…Buffy, at the OBGYN. Which left unanswered questions.

Angel cleared his throat. "So, I did rememeber one thing from earlier."

Buffy perked up, she raised herself up on her elbows, "Yeah? Spill."

"I was circling near the hospital this afternoon…going to pick up some blood…and I saw you and Dawn."

Buffy sank back to the cushions. "Oh." She said flatly, "Enough beating around the bush. You saw me. Plus you have super-vamp senses, same as Spike…so, I know that you've figured it out."

"So, it's true?" It was less of a question and more a proclamation of disbelief.

Spike watched the slayer toy with the ends of her golden hair. With a roll of his eyes, he answered his Grandsire, "Yeah, Gramps. S'true."

"No one asked you, Spike." Angel countered.

"Well, they should…it's my kid in there."

The laughter that came form Angel filled the whole house on Revello Drive. He finally settled enough to glance at Buffy. He saw anger in her eyes, which was enough to make him laugh some more. His laughter gradually slowed and died when he didn't hear a denial. Angel glanced back and forth between Buffy and his Grandchilde—his eyes going from hopeful to horrified.

"What? Buffy?" Angel's silent plea went unanswered.

Buffy punched Spike's arm.

"Oy! What are you punching me for. S'not like it's a secret."

"No, but did you have to say it like that? I told you I'd tell him when I was ready. Why can't you just respect my boundaries for once?"

At this point they were both on their feet.

"Of course you're taking his side."

Buffy folded her arms, "He has no side. This is not about sides. This is about you and your constant need to one-up him."

"Can you blame me? I mean, look at him."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Nice, Spike." The Slayer shoved past the vampire, "I'm going upstairs to lie down. Angel you can handle talking to Giles on your own, right?" She didn't wait for an answer.

Spike started toward the stairs.

"I wouldn't." Dawn said, placing a hand on his arm.

Spike glared at Angel, "Look what you've done."

Angel was centimeters from Spike in an instant, "What I've done? Just what exactly have you done? What sort of spell did you use?" Angel grabbed a fistful of black cotton tee, "You've done some despicable things, but I never thought you'd stoop this low. It's bad even for you."

A muscle in Spike's jaw twitched as he grappled with his self control. Oh, how he longed to break that straight nose. "If you want the logistics, talk to Red. As for me, I did nothing the slayer didn't ask for."

Spike landed on his back, broken nose quickly swelling, purple seeping beneath his skin. Angel stomped out the front door, slamming it so hard a picture fell of the wall and shattered.

Willow and Tara poked their heads in from the kitchen where they had been making dinner. "What was that?" The witches asked in unison.

"Angel." Dawn said by way of an answer. They nodded and retreated back to the kitchen. Dawn turned to help Spike up. "I mean, you had to have seen that coming." She said to her favorite vampire.

"Yeah, I suppose I deserved that." Spike winced in pain. "I'm gonna step out side, Bit. Won't be a mo'." But Spike wasn't going outside. Spike was going up his tree, and through  _his_  window to have it out with his slayer.

* * *

She heard him come in and felt the bed dip down as he sat beside her. She glanced up briefly, "Let me guess…Angel?" She said pointing to the deep purple covering more than half of Spike's beautiful face.

"Poofter." He answered.

"Well, you probably deserved it."

"Yeah—" Spike trailed off. "No, you know what…No, I didn't, Buffy. I didn't deserve it at all."

The slayer looked up, set to argue, but Spike cut her off. "No, it's my turn to talk, and you're going to sit there and listen because it's high-time someone called you out. You have him on some pedestal. Before he got here, you were going on and on about how mad you were that he hadn't even bothered to check-in after you were brought back…but the minute he shows up in person, you go all weak-kneed."

"This isn't about him, Spike. This is about you not respecting what I wanted." Buffy focused on Spike's cold eyes. "I was going to tell him. I just wanted to let him down gently."

"Well, sorry…I have a complicated history with Angelus…maybe even more complicated than yours. I tend to say things before I think when he's around."

"You tend to do that no matter who's around."

Buffy registered Spike's cool hands seeking her own. Maybe it was the gash on his broken nose, or the pain in his eyes, but she allowed it.

"You and I share something now. Something neither of us ever shared with anyone else before. I need to know where we stand because I won't spend the rest of my child's life feeling like I come in second to my Grandsire. If you want me, then you have to start being in my corner a bit more often. I'm sorry I told him…but was it really that big of a deal—enough to warrant all of this?"

The anger left her in a breath, "No…it wasn't. My emotions are just all jumbly. It's like a heavy metal concert when you're used to smooth jazz, you know?"

Spike laughed, "Pregnancy has not helped your metaphors, Slayer." He cut of her argument by sealing her lips in a kiss. A kiss that Buffy quickly returned.

"Forgive me?" he asked between frantic kisses.

"Yes. No more talking." The slayer dug her fingers into his hair and crawled in his lap. Again, she was amazed by him. He was so rough and mean, but in moments like this, he was gentle and loving. She had to admit, it felt right. They seemed to fit like a key in a lock. Other keys had fit before, but none had ever unlocked her heart the way he could…Spike was right, her metaphors had not improved.

She didn't realize he'd flipped them over until she felt the weight of him between her still clothed legs, pressing against her. They had only been together once…and she wasn't going to lie…it felt like centuries had passed, what with the dying and all. The details of their tryst were a bit fuzzy.

They had been slowly growing closer, they'd shared a few fleeting kisses since then, but Buffy hadn't stopped to think where it was all heading.

Was she ready for this?

Was this what she wanted?

Spike?

Maybe it was her hormones, clouding her mind…he was the father father after all. Maybe what she was feeling was less lovey and more obligation-y. That thought fled her mind when she felt cool hands beneath her shirt, cold against the flushed skin of her ribs. Nope, she was definitely feeling things that were  _not_  obligation-y. Not at all.

She decided to be bold. She reached down and tugged at her shirt, disengaging their lips long enough to slip it over her head. She'd forgotten that she hadn't worn a bra today, but there was no going back now.

"Buffy." Spike's voice was breathy and deep. He reclaimed her lips as his hands traveled up her body to her bare breasts.

At that point, Buffy's mind shut off. She forgot all about the people waiting downstairs, and the trouble surrounding them. Which was perhaps not the smartest move considering she'd forgotten to lock the door…

* * *

"And that's when I said, 'Stop or I'll shoot.'" Alaina shrugged, "So, I did."

Giles laughed. He'd been laughing throughout their walk. He had forgotten how funny she was. In fact, he''d been so engaged in their conversation, that he'd walked straight to Revello Drive, body on auto-pilot. He stopped walking in front of the Summer's residence.

"I apologize, I wasn't even thinking. It seems my feet led me to my destination instead of yours."

"No, it's my fault, I was distracting you." Alaina smiled.

Giles shifted, torn between racing inside to share Whistler's warning and relishing these precious moments in her company. "Would you like to come in? I could give you a ride home if you like?"

Alaina thought about this. "What time is it…oh! It's getting late. Actually, would you mind terribly if I used your phone? My fiancé should be done with work by now. He'll be worried."

It took five long breaths before Giles could respond. He knew because he counted. "Not at all…c-come in."


	15. Fiance

**Ch 15:**

**Fiance**

"The phone is right in here."

Willow and Tara forfeited their silent stare off when they heard Giles's voice. They resumed eating their dinner, trying to appear as happy and couply as possible. Willow nudged Tara when she saw who entered the kitchen with Giles.

Willow said, "Miss Calen—"

"—Alaina!" Tara jumped in. "It's nice to see you again. We thought we might've scared you off."

"And by we, she means Spike." Willow smiled.

Alaina gave an uncomfortable smile of her own. "Not at all. I'm still trying to take it all in…but I'm managing. He's not here is he? The  _Vampire_?"

"He left just a bit ago…so, all clear." Willow gave a mock salute…apparently she reverted back to her awkward high-school self when uncomfortable.

"Alaina just needs to borrow the phone…to er— call her fiancé." Giles said with a pointed stare at the witches.

"Of course." They said in unison, forced smiles uncomfortably large.

"Why don't we give you some privacy. We will just be in the living room." Giles ushered the witches through the door.

" _Fiancé?"_ Willow whispered as soon as they were alone.

Giles just removed his glasses and collapsed into the sofa.  _"I'll explain when we are all present. I don't want to go over it six different times. To answer your question, yes, fiancé."_

Tara sat beside the watcher, " _Giles, I'm so sorry…and how weird. I thought she just got here…when Buffy did…"_

Giles shrugged, " _What is it Buffy says, must be a Tuesday?"_

Alaina appeared in the doorway. "He's on his way. Thank-you again for walking with me, and letting me use your phone." Alaina glanced at the T.V. Which had just flashed a special news report about another body found in a warehouse downtown. "Oh, how terrible. Have you been following the news lately. Scary stuff."

"Xander and I poured over the books the other night, but I can't find anything to connect the victims." Willow said offhandedly.

Alaina looked troubled, her eyes traveling between the group.

"We…are…what you might call, private investigators…just a hobby really." Tara babbled out the excuse, hoping it would stop Alaina's nervous backing toward the door.

It worked.

"I love mysteries! It's a hobby of mine too. I'm always watching reruns of Law and Order." Alaina sat in the arm chair, looking like Cordelia when she heard juicy gossip.

 _"_ Yes, sorta like that." Tara said.

"When things get slow around the Magic Box, we…investigate crimes…" Giles trailed off, realizing how ridiculous they sounded.

"You know, it's funny," Alaina began, "I had a dream the other night that I was helping you all fight demons. I was somehow able to heal things…I don't know what that says about my ego." She gave a nervous laugh and tucked her chin length hair behind one ear, "Anyway, I know that sounds crazy but…"

It took Giles a moment to respond. "You'd be surprised." Was all he managed to say as the wheels in his mind creaked again into motion. She had a dream that she could heal? Did she even know what she was? Whistler wasn't clear on that. He said she wasn't the same Jenny, but he didn't say whether or not the powers filled her in on her mission.

There was a knock at the door. Alaina stood up. "That must be my ride. If you ever need help or just company, I'd love to come by." She laughed at herself, "Basically what I'm getting at is, I'm new in town and in desperate need of friends so…be my friends?"

"We'd like that." Tara said.

"Very much." Willow added.

Giles walked Alaina to the door and returned looking every bit as haggard as he felt.

"Well, that was wigsome. Am I the only one freaking out here?" Willow said. "Why does she think her name is Alaina? And why does she have a fiancé?"

Giles sighed, "Where is Buffy? I would like to share what I know so that I can go home and drown my sorrows."

"I haven't seen her since Spike and Angel got all grrrr argh…" Willow said.

Giles jumped to his feet, "Angel was here? Why didn't you tell me?"

Willow frowned, "Because he's been here for like a week?"

"Where is he now?" Giles asked, already elbow deep in the weapons chest.

"He punched Spike and left." Tara said. "Is everything okay?"

"No, it is not. Get Buffy."

* * *

Upstairs the slayer and her vampire were lying side by side, chests rising and falling in unison. Buffy had stopped Spike before things got too out of hand, reminding him that they needed to take things slow.

"It's not that I don't want to…because I really really want to…but I don't want to mess this up. I want to see if we could work, for real, you know? I want it to be special…last time was all apocalypsy…I want this time to be candlelight and roses."

Spike sighed and flopped back against the pillows. "A little warning next time Slayer."

"I'll make it up to you soon." Buffy said, pressing a kiss to his neck.

Spike growled and flipped her over, pinning her body beneath his. "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep pet." He dove for her lips but a knock at the door made him change course, his head landing on the pillow beside Buffy instead. A muffled, "I'm serious about biting them." Came from the Vampire.

Willow entered without invitation, "Buffy? Oh…Buffy and Spike…I didn't realize."

"Lower the defenses, Red. You weren't interrupting anything." Spike got to his feet, running his hands through his tussled hair.

Willow frowned. "Giles wants you downstairs." Willow turned on her heel and marched out.

Buffy's shoulders slumped, "They are never going to get over this are they?"

Spike arched a brow. "Us sleeping together? No pet, I'd wager they're not."

Buffy's mouth fell open, "We are not! We—well…not yet. You're, ugh…" With that she marched to the bedroom door, "Coming?" she said with an outstretched hand.

Spike followed with a smile.

* * *

Spike was distracted throughout the conversation downstairs. Something about Jenny, Whistler and Angels. He heard Angelus tossed around in there as well, but all his attention was focused on his slayer. She wanted romance. She wanted this to go the way it's supposed to—date, fall in love, etc. That was a good sign, more than she had ever given him before…and if there was one thing Spike could do it was romantic gestures.

"I like that plan. What about you, Spike?"

"What?" Spike blinked at everyone, earning a frown from Buffy.

"You and I will go to that warehouse and try to look for clues. Giles is going to keep researching the relic to see how we use it to bring Jenny's memories back. Willow and Tara are going to work on securing the house against Angelus and Dawn is going to do her trigonometry homework." The teen protested but Buffy added, "Now, Dawn."

"I'll call Xander and Anya to go with you to the warehouse." Giles said.

"Spike and I can handle it, Giles."

"I am aware of that…and yet, I find the idea of you two going alone is unsettling."

"You think we couldn't slip away from Harris and Demon Girl if we really wanted to?" Spike tucked his tongue behind his teeth, earning him a glare from the room. "You lot are too uptight for your own good." Spike sprang to his feet and grabbed Buffy by the hand, "Come on Slayer, Harris can catch up. The night waits for no vampire. I'm driving."

Buffy yelled a, "Be back later!" To the others and let herself be pulled through the kitchen and into the backyard where Spike's bike was already waiting.

"Before you ask, I left it here the night after our run in with the Sandman…just in case we had to make a break for it." Spike handed the Slayer a helmet and kicked the bike to life.

"I wasn't going to ask."

"See, that's progress."

* * *

Giles hadn't been entirely truthful. When he volunteered to research the relic…what he meant was this…

"Whistler!" Giles' voice echoed through the empty Magic Box. "I know you can hear me dammit!" Giles laid the pendant on the research table and scooped up the heaviest object he could find—A giant bust of Gaia—Willow's purchase. He raised the statue over his head, hovering it above the relic, "Show yourself or so help me, I'll smash it."

"There's no need for theatrics." Whistler gave a nervous laugh as he inched toward the table. "How can I be of service?"

Giles narrowed his eyes. Even if nothing came of this conversation. He had just learned something. Smashing the relic was a no-no…at least according to the powers. "Why does Alaina think she has a fiancé? Does she even realize who she is or did you send her back here with a fresh set of fake memories?"

"Would we really do something like that?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Whistler sighed. "She's in there Giles, she just has to be reminded. The fake memories…those were just a way to ease the transition. Buffy was a little schitzo when she came back…we wanted Jenny to feel comfortable."

"So, judging by your reaction, I'd say smashing the thing is not the way to bring her memories back."

"No." Whistler laughed, "I would advise you protect that relic at all costs."

Giles set the statue down and plopped into a chair…a new topic on his mind. "Why Spike? If Buffy hadn't been pregnant when she came back, then we wouldn't be dealing with Angelus  _and_ another demon."

"And you would never have gotten to see Jenny again."

"Yes, well, I'm not sure where I stand on that decision yet."

Whistler sat, "Look, it was the Slayer's choice. She chose Spike…not that we weren't all rooting for that. She needs someone who's a match for her."

"I refuse to believe that could ever be Spike."

Whistler shrugged, "Suit yourself, but he's not going anywhere so you'd better find a way to make peace." With a pop of air, Whistler was gone and Giles was alone once more.


	16. Jenny

**Ch 16:**

**Jenny**

 

Giles was at a loss…no that wasn't enough…there were not words.

Buffy died.

Buffy came back.

Buffy was pregnant.

Spike was the father.

Jenny died.

Jenny came back.

Jenny was engaged.

Jenny didn't know Jenny was Jenny.

The Watcher stared at the spot where Whistler had been moments before. His fingers sought out the Holy Relic. When they came in contact with the amulet they trembled, at first a light shake but soon tremors that racked his entire body. His knees bent and he sank down. He missed the chair and hit the tile, not even registering that the tremors were sobs.

"It's not supposed to be easy? What the bloody hell does that even mean?" His voice was answered by silence. The Magic Box was utterly quiet, save for him. Alone. Always alone. But it didn't have to be that way, did it? If he could figure out Whistler's fucking riddles….figure out how to remind Jenny of who she was. But why? So, he could lose her again in a few weeks when the dust from Willow's spell had settled?

He cried for longer than he cared to admit. He had never felt so…helpless. There was always a loophole, always a way…but not this time.

He didn't even hear her come in but suddenly she was beside him, dark eyes full of concern. "Mr. Giles?"

"Jenny?" He said without thinking.

She tilted her head with the feline grace she'd always had. She was so unchanged. So, untouched by time and all that it had wrought in their lives.

"You called me that before—so have your friends. Your very inappropriately young friends—," She nudged him with her elbow but he didn't smile.

"You just look very much like someone I knew."

"I get that a lot. One of those faces-" She sat down, swinging her legs around so her back was resting against the counter. "You could tell me about her…if you want to. I always found that it helped to talk about things, get them off my chest. I'm really trying here—to make some friends. Help me out?"

Giles removed his glasses, scrubbing his tear-drenched eyes. "She was—well, she was unlike anyone I've ever known. She was a teacher at Sunnydale High. That's how we met."

"And her name was Jenny?"

He nodded, replacing his glasses. "Jenny Calendar." God, he hadn't said that name out loud in a long time. It hurt as much as he thought it would. He studied her face, waiting for something, some flicker of understanding that never came.

"What happened to her?"

Giles leaned back, this was going to be a long conversation.

* * *

The bike rumbled to a stop in the dark alley that ran behind the warehouse. This place flooded the Slayer with memories she would rather have left in the past. It wasn't that long ago that this place had been William the Bloody's favorite bolthole.

William the Bloody.

William the Not-So-Bloody. Buffy smiled at the turn her life had taken…well less of a turn more of a careening loop-the loop…Spike was right, her metaphor-ing was rusty.

"Earth to Slayer—come in slayer."

Her head shot up and there he was, standing in the only pool of lamp light in the alley, hands on the low-slung jeans across his hips, skin glowing, and the smallest, barest fraction of amusement in his eyes even as he tried to seem impatient.

 _Screw detective work_. She strode toward him with her purpose clear in her eyes, backed him to the wall and fixed her mouth on his. He'd been patient. He'd been following her cues—all of them. Maybe it was time to throw him a bone. She hoped there would be time for romance and flowers but she knew better than anyone that you had to seize them moments you're given—because you never knew when tomorrow wouldn't come.

" _Spike."_  She whispered when his lips traveled to her throat. Her voice was husky and heavy with desire. Her stomach fluttering as his cool fingers grazed the skin left exposed between her tank top and skirt.

"We have to search the warehouse." He said between kisses, though there was a lack of urgency to the statement.

Her fingers began their own exploration of his muscular chest beneath the thin cotton fabric of his shirt. "You and I both know there's nothing here." She said.

He nipped at her jaw with blunt teeth and she mewled in approval. She heard the distant approach of footsteps. Xander and Anya. They had to move or they'd be interrupted yet again.

"Spike…not here." She took his hand and pulled him back into the shadows of the alley.

Their pace became a run when they heard Anya's unmistakably blunt tone complaining about their having to be the ones whose sexy time was taken away that night. Xander promptly reminded her that there were more important things—such as human skinning demons and Angelus.

The Slayer and her vamp reached the end of the alley and crossed the street, racing down a row of dark houses. Most of these row houses in Downtown Sunnydale were abandoned, their tenants eaten or smart enough to have run away.

"This one." Spike ducked into an empty foyer, pulling her along by the hand. He rounded on her, flattening her against the first wall he could find and kissing her hard. She didn't know where it came from but something came alive inside her then. She responded to his kiss with a ferocity that surprised even her. Her lips parted to allow his tongue to tangle with hers as she pushed off the wall, flipping them around so he was the one against the wall. It became a dance, which is what it had always been really—they fought for control with their bodies, their lips, their hearts.

She could let go with him. She didn't have to be afraid of her own strength or ashamed of her unspoken desires. He was her match in that sense—probably in every sense—which was an alley she wasn't ready to explore.

She locked her arms around his neck and crawled up his body so her legs were draped around his waist, his hips pressing into her. She fumbled for his belt as he let out a growl that rumbled against her chest the way the way his bike rumbled against her thighs.

He pulled his lips away from her mouth long enough to say, "Here, kitten? Not exactly roses and candelight."

"Spike, shut up." Her words were accented by the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor.

"Right." He ripped her lacy top over her head while she struggled to push his leather coat down his shoulders. Their hands and lips were frantic, searching out more skin, more contact. They broke apart so Buffy could step out of her skirt and the scrap of silk she called underwear, and then she stood before him bare as he'd never seen her. The night before Glory had been rushed and hurried, they'd only removed the necessary articles of clothing. Now, she was just her, just Buffy. For the first time since Angel, she was nervous, unsure of what he was thinking. There had been so much build up to this, would he be disappointed?

His eyes raked over her body for a long moment before he finally pulled his own black tee over his head and flattened her naked chest against his. His lips peppered kisses along her collar bone as her fingers fumbled with his zipper. She pushed his jeans off his hips and he kicked them away. Now it was her turn to gaze at all of him. He was clearly far from disappointed.

Somehow they made it to the filthy dust covered rug covering the wood floors. He hovered over her, pausing to search her eyes one last time. Neither spoke. She just nodded, and reached up to pull his lips back to hers. Her eyes went wide when he thrust forward, and they were still, chests rising and falling in unison.

Slowly they moved as one. This time was so unlike the first. She was gentle now, all the frantic energy left her and she felt calm. The calm quickly turned to the most wonderful sensations she'd felt since that night before Glory. She writhed under him, her hands exploring every line and curve of his hard body. Soft whispers of encouragement left her lips.

"I love you, Buffy."

"I know."

* * *

Angelus stalked down Sunnydale's main drag, a wicked smile twisting his features. He licked the blood from his lips. His nostrils flared as he soaked in the cooling autumn air. God it was good to be back…and free to come and go as he chose. The sheer possibilities were delicious. Nothing like a bit of death to liven his mood.

The Red Witch really got it right this time. He'd have to remember to thank her before he ripped her throat out. He'd gotten out of Hell and brought his girl with him. Now, as soon as the right body came along, they would be together and the world would bleed. She would have her body back and he would be free to chose any body that suited him—maybe he'd let her choose. She was the one who'd have to look at him after all.

He turned toward Downtown and felt her presence beside him. " _Angelus._ " Came the raspy voice. Hearing the voice alone, he couldn't even be sure that it  _was_  her. He would be so glad to take away that rasp, to hear her voice again, low and silky.

"Liv." He purred. "Did they get it?"

" _Not yet…but they will. They know what will happen if they fail."_

He smiled. It was all falling into place. He felt the tinkling in his hands and knew he didn't have much time. He walked to a nearby alley just as he felt Angel's body slip away. He was getting stronger, he'd managed to stay in the body for almost four hours that time. It wouldn't be long now.  _"I'll be back."_ He said to his old host. Then, he followed Liv's aura out of the alley and over the rooftops of Sunnydale.

* * *

Alaina placed a comforting hand on Giles arm. He fought the urge to pull her too him. Maybe he should just kiss her and be done with it. Would that bring her memory back? Was it that simple? Without realizing it he felt himself leaning toward her, but she recoiled.

"I'm sorry." Giles glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize I'd been talking your ear off this long. I'm sure your fiancé is worried." He set the amulet on the table and pulled himself to his feet before offering her a hand.

She shrugged. "We had an argument earlier after he picked me up at your house—er Buffy's house. Who's house is it exactly?"

Before he could answer the shop door crashed open, the little bell giving an angry ring as it was almost knocked from its perch. Three large demons barreled in. Alaina squealed and dove behind the counter. "Not again!" She shouted, "Rupert, get down."

But Giles was frozen in place staring at the demons. There was something off about them, something—less than menacing. They seemed almost unsure.

"Attention Magic Box patrons." Began one demon. He was promptly elbowed in the ribs by the second.

"We talked about this." Said the third under its breath.

Giles furrowed his brow.  _What the bloody hell is this?_  He picked up a sword from the display case and promptly aimed it at the one in the middle. "What do you want?"

The three demons fanned out around the shop. One charged at Giles. The sword came down hard on the demon's horned head. To everyone's surprise the demon yelped in pain.

"Ow ow owie! He hit me."

"Clearly he is strong."

The third, clearly the leader, said "Consider this a warning. We will be back with reinforcements." The other two looked at him. Their faces were as confused as demons could look. The leader gave an exaggerated nod. "Clearly you can't be defeated…let us run."

He dashed out and the others followed leaving behind two speechless humans in the Magic Box.

"What the hell?" Alaina popped up from behind the counter, "Do they usually just run off like that?"

Giles scratched his head, "No I—" His eyes fell upon the table where the amulet had been and widened, "Dear lord. Come, we have to find the others." He pulled Alaina by the hand out of the shop. She followed mumbling about it being the middle of the night.  _Your friends sure keep strange hours._

* * *

The moonlight was still filtering through the holes in the ceiling when Spike collapsed in a panting heap. He turned his head to gaze at the equally panting Slayer beside him.

Her bottom lip jutted out, "When did the building collapse."

Spike chuckled, "I'm guessing sometime between the first time and the—"

She cut him off with another kiss—affectionate rather than heated. He pulled back enough to lock eyes with her and said the only thing he could think to say. "I love you."

For a moment, she looked like she might run, but then her expression softened, "I think—I'm almost there too." She said.

Spike couldn't believe his ears. Were it not for vampire hearing, he might not have heard it at all. "Come again, pet." He said.

She rolled onto her side to face him, propping herself up on her elbow. "I can't tell you what you want to hear quite yet but…it doesn't hurt as much anymore. Every day when I wake up, it's a little easier and it's because of you, Spike." She stroked his cheek fondly, "Heaven is a lot to recover from—but I'm getting there."

"Buffy, there's no rush. Told you before I've got all the time in the bloody world. This with you is more than I hoped for already." He placed his palm against her flat stomach, rubbing circles over the spot where he could hear their baby's heartbeat. "I never thought I'd be a father…least of all with you, Slayer. But, Christ I have never been so excited for anything in my unlife."

Her eyes widened, "Ooh, that reminds me. I have a present for you." She scrambled through the rubble around them in search of her skirt. She found it under a fallen floorboard and fished the pictures out of her pocket. He sat up and she came to sit beside him. She handed him the string of fuzzy black and white images about the size of postcards. "It isn't anything extravagant but—I can't believe I forgot about them. It really has been crazy lately."

He looked at the images in his hands. It took a moment for realization to hit him. "Is that?"

"Uh huh," She nodded. "Right there…that's her—or him…it?"

Spike ran a finger over the little dark spot. His eyes clouding. He was not a man easily rendered speechless but she'd managed it. His eyes came back to hers. "I love you." He pushed her back against the floor and climbed onto top of her once more, attacking her lips.

"Baby, as much as I would love to do  _that_  again…we need to go. Mr. Sun will be up soon and he is not a big fan of vamps. So, why don't we move this to a more Spike-friendly place."

Spike burst out laughing as she pushed him off her. "Mr. Sun?"

She tossed his clothes at him in response. "Shut up. I'm all post love-making babble girl."

Spike liked post-love-making babble girl. "Is that what we were doing, pet?"

"Isn't it?"

"Was for me. Just checking s'all."

* * *

Xander and Anya burst through the door of Revello Drive just as Giles and Alaina were coming through the back. Anya yawned and threw her body across the couch while Xander sat near her feet

"Find anything?" Willow asked as she joined them in the living room.

Xander shook his head as he sat beside his fiancé. "Whole lot of nadda."

"Oh good, you're back." Said Giles as he too entered the room, Alaina in tow. "Where are Buffy and Spike?"

"My sentiments exactly. They never met us at the warehouse." Said Xander.

"But Spike's bike was parked in the alley." Anya chimed in.

A look of panic took over Willow's face, "You don't think they are in trouble, do you?"

Dawn, who had been listening in from the desk jumped to her feet. "Why else would they have disappeared? It's not like Buffy to skip out on investigating."

"Oh, I can think of a few reasons." Everyone's eyes turned to Anya. Their expressions ranging from nausea to rage—only Dawn looked amused. "Don't pretend like it didn't cross your minds. I mean, they made a baby—we are all on the same page about that right?"

"Yes, we'd just rather not have to imagine it—ever." Xander said emphatically. "Besides, Buffy said it was a one-time thing. She wasn't thinking straight with Glory and her mom…"

"Oh, and she's thinking straight now?" Willow added.

Alaina simply hung back, attention bouncing speaker to speaker.

Finally, Giles silenced them. "I'm sure there is a valid reason why they didn't meet you at the warehouse which Buffy and Spike will share when they return. Unfortunately, we have more pressing problems—the amulet was stolen from the Magic Box." Giles sat down and relayed Whistler's message and the events that followed—purposefully replacing the names Jenny and Alaina with exaggerated winks and nods.

"So, the amulet is a Holy Relic, and it is the key to  _someone's_  memories…and you lost it mere moments after Whistler told you to keep it safe?" said Anya accusingly. "Were you two distracted by sex like Spike and Buffy?"

"Ahn! Another image I don't need."

Willow rolled her eyes, "Giles told us how it happened. Three demons. Keep up."

"I think they were the same demons that broke into the Antique shop." Alain said easing her way into the circle by sitting on the arm rest of Giles' chair. "Their voices sounded familiar."

"I do think it's weird that they were speaking English." Said Tara.

"Most demons don't." Dawn added.

"Well, we have to get it back."

"I feel a research party coming on…pizza?" Dawn asked.

* * *

They made it home just in time to beat the sun but Buffy's attempts at slipping in through the back door came to a screeching halt. She walked into the kitchen, still clutching Spike's cool hand in her own, and found all the Scoobies assembled around the kitchen with half eaten pizza boxes decorating the island. Pizza had appeared as it tended to do at Scooby meetings.

On instinct, she yanked her hand from Spike's but then paused. Why? They will have to get over it eventually. With a rare burst of bravery, she leaned back against the vampire's chest and pulled his arms around her, resting his hands and her own atop her belly. "Hi guys. What's with the statue act?"

"Buffy, are you alright?" Giles asked, voice full of concern.

Buffy lightly traced the open wounds on Spike's knuckles, seeing the same wounds mirrored on her own hands. The fact that they'd taken down a building last night had almost slipped her mind.

"I'm okay." She covered.

"No you're not…you're all sore and limpy."

Buffy's back went rigid. Spike chuckled. "I'm not sore and limpy…We just had a fight. You know the all-nighter kind." Now, Spike was fully laughing and the others were gaping in disbelief.  _Just stop talking while you're ahead._ "Not with each other…with vampires."

Xander's lip curled, zeroed in on the vampire's possessive grip on the Slayer's stomach.

Anya preened, happy to have been right. "See, distracted by sex. I'm always right. You should listen to me more often."

"Right, on that disturbing note," Giles jumped in, "We have a problem, Buffy. The amulet was stolen last night at the Magic Box."

"Well, what are we waiting for…let's go get it back." Spike insisted. "That thing is the key to getting rid of this Sandman right? I don't want that thing anywhere near the mother of my child."

"Good god, Spike. Can you not rub that in every time you open your mouth." Xander was gradually turning every shade of red.

"Just don't see the point in standing here wasting daylight, as it were. Let's get this handled so we can go back to our lives."

Buffy pouted, "But we just got home. I was hoping for some R&R. We had a long night-" She looked at her feet, "With the fighting."

Spike turned her face toward his. He cupped her cheek, and ran his thumb tenderly along the healing cut beneath her eye. "Why don't you go upstairs and kip for a bit, luv. The rest of us can head to the shop, see if I can track a scent."

"Are you sure? It feels kind wgsome to send you out to do my job."

"You need your rest, luv. You  _both_  do."

Maybe it was his tender baritone of his voice or the way his cool hand felt pressed against her cheek but she forgot about everyone else in the room. She rose up and brushed her lips against his. She meant it to be quick but it was no use. Her lips had a mind of their own and could not be trusted within 10 feet of lips-of-Spike. Their eyes fluttered closed and Spike tipped her head back to deepen the kiss.

"Woa." Xander yelled, "Not ready to see that. Is it just me or does this all seem really out of character for Buffy? I mean—kissing evil undead?" He looked to the others for support. "How can we be sure that's even a normal baby in there. Maybe its controlling her? Or, maybe he did something—a spell…I mean vampires can't have kids."

"I wouldn't put it past him." Giles mumbled under his breath.

Spike sneered at them, coming to stand protectively in front of Buffy. "I'm not the one's been abusing the spell-casting, Whelp. If this baby is mystical, you have Red to thank for it."

Xander stalked toward the smaller man. "You are taking advantage of her, Spike." He jabbed a finger at the vampire's chest, "One day, she's gonna come to her senses and I will be there smiling and cheering her on."

Spike made no move to throw him off. He simply leaned forward and spoke in his best Big Bad voice, "You're in for a rude awakening boy." He flashed a menacing fang.

Buffy put herself between them before it could go any further. "Xander, back off."

"But Buff—"

"Back. Off."

Xander shook his head, still sneering at Spike. "We'll meet everyone at the Magic Box. I need some air." He stomped out of the Summer's house. Anya scurried out after him when he called for her.

Buffy's eyes scanned the silent Scoobies left in the kitchen. "Anyone else wanna comment on my life choices? Bring it on."

Dawn skipped over to her sister and threw her arms around both she and Spike. "I am happy for you both. You're perfect for each other. I've always seen it."

Willow and Giles weren't quite as enthusiastic but they didn't argue.

"Alright then, meeting adjourned." Buffy stalked toward the stairs, "Spike, come tuck me in…please." She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Don't have to tell me twice, Slayer." He said playfully chasing after her.


	17. Hostages

**Ch. 17**

**Hostages**

Giles leaned against the wall of bookcases watching the vampire sweeping around the Magic Box like a leather-clad Doberman. He'd stop and touch something then bring his pale fingertips to his nose, then resume his pacing.

Giles' mind involuntarily replayed the moment Buffy told him Spike was the father of her child. Spike. Spike, the vampire whom they'd once chained to a bathtub. Truthfully, he'd felt the undercurrent between his slayer and William the Bloody even back then. A small part of his mind had always feared this—although it had seemed so outside the realm of possibilities that his fear had gone unspoken. Giles had simply removed his glasses and turned a blind eye—literally on one notable occasion.

The Watcher's memories flashed from the bathtub, to the fake engagement and then to Spike's face when they'd stumbled upon Buffy's lifeless body at the base of the tower. Spike had been inconsolable. Broken. His cries of agony were enough to make the Scoobies suspend their hatred of the vampire for the night. Giles himself had dragged Spike back to his crypt and safely tucked him in darkness before sunrise. Giles regretted that small mercy now…if he'd let him dust, he wouldn't have been around to father Buffy's child.

There again, that wasn't strictly true, was it? All this happened before her death.

Oh, god.

This wasn't just a phase. This wasn't just resurrected Buffy having no one to turn to.

She had turned to him even then, before her death.

She had turned to him before. She would always turn to him.

Giles couldn't allow it. Once this mess was over, the problem would be dealt with—or maybe he'd get lucky and an errant demon would take Spike off his hands. They were going into a showdown after all.

"Are you even in there, Watcher?" asked Spike sounding bored.

Giles startled, quickly replacing his glasses on his face, "Yes—er, what?"

"I said I can track them but we need to move fast."

Giles cocked his head and studied the vampire, his eyes searching for something. He didn't know what exactly. He just needed to see the thing that the Powers the Be saw. Why had they chosen him? Why had Buffy chosen him? Why had Drusilla chosen him? What was it? Where was it?

"You're actually worried, aren't you?" the Watcher asked.

"Well, yeah." Said Spike sounding like Dawn in all her petulant teenage glory. "All manner of beasties out there are after what's mine…gets a fella a mite touchy."

"They are not yours Spike. Don't forget that." Then, Giles slumped a bit, "Though, you are right about one thing. This whole situation has certainly touched too close to home for all of us."

"You talkin' about the gypsy bint that Angelus killed? Jenny?" asked Spike, cigarette migrating to his lips.

Giles' face hardened, "Yes. Thank you for reminding me." He snatched the cigerette before the Vampire could taint his shop with its fumes.

Spike sneered. "Just don't see what you're crying your precious Watcher eyes out about."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand what it feels like to see the love of your life come back from the dead—except it's not her. It looks like her, smells like her…but it's not her."

"Oh really, don't think I'd understand that, do you?" Spike stepped threateningly close to Giles, "I think even a pathetic git like me might have a bit of a clue of what that feels like. That's the difference between you an' me. I don't sit wallowing in self-pity. The love of my life came back, same as yours, and I didn't sit there takin' it for granted. I stood by her side. Listened to her. Loved her…and one day, she was Buffy again. Jenny's in there…you're just not man enough to pull her out. So, go ahead and tell me again exactly what it is that I don't understand."

With that Spike slammed out the door, not even stopping when he crashed into Xander and Anya who were on their way in.

"Was that Spike?" Anya said in confusion.

Giles' mouth parted in awe for a moment before he said, "I'm quite certain that was not Spike. That was William."

Xander's lip curled, "And I say—huh?"

"Never mind." Said Giles, "Let's just catch up with him before he disappears."

* * *

Xander adjusted the heavy duffel on his shoulder, steel claking against steel inside. He was pouting. He knew it, but he refused to stop it. Why did they need Spike's vampire nose to do their tracking? The Scoobies had managed to catch the baddies for many years before they had Spike's "help" and they could do it now. They didn't need him.

Stupid Vampire with his stupid alluring blue eyes and well-formed—and that train of thought did not arrive at the predicted destination.

"Are you alright?" Anya chirped in his ear.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're clutching my hand very hard. It's uncomfortable and I don't like it."

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"About Spike and Buffy having sex?"

"Yes…what—no?" Xander shot a scandalized look at his fiancé.

Anya rolled her eyes, "You're going to have to get over it sometime, Xander. They are having a baby, which means they are together in a semi-permanent way already."

"The only permanent thing about Spike is his cringe-worthiness. As soon as all this demon nuttiness is over, Buffy will snap out of this…this…whatever this is."

"Yes, because things were always so calm before." Anya took back her hand, folding her arms over her chest. "You just let me know when you're done sulking. Until then, I am going to be useful. I have a wedding to plan and I need a wedding party with their skin in-tact. Tuxedos do not go well with exposed ligaments." She stomped ahead to walk beside Giles.

Spike stopped abruptly and the Watcher practically walked into his back. Spike seemed unfazed, his head whipped to the left and he set off, "This way, Kiddies. Getting closer now."

They came upon a sign that said Crawford Street and Giles exclaimed, "Dear Lord, they are in the mansion? Why didn't we think of that? Angelus seems to have a fondness for the place."

Sure enough, there were lights in the upstairs windows and a van parked out front. The group huddled behind the half wall and peered over toward the entrance.

"What's the plan?" Xander asked, doing his best to focus on the task at hand.

"Go in and squish the bugs." Spike bared his teeth, "Grr argh…any questions?"

"While I echo your enthusiasm…I think we should be cautious. We know there are at least three demons in there—who knows how many more. Angelus alone is a threat but Angelus, the sandman and their minions…" Giles trailed off.

Spike gave an exasperated sigh, "Fine, have it your way. You go in all stealthy, if you must…I meanwhile will charge through the front door and see what's what. It will be a good distraction for you lot, if nothing else."

Before Xander could wait to be last to agree, Spike was already gone and Giles had fished a crossbow from the duffel.

* * *

Spike stalked toward the door. He was overdue for some violence. He laced the fingers of his hands in front of him and pressed until he heard a satisfying crack. He bounced on the balls of his feet, tossing his head side to side and rolling his shoulders. Oh, yeah…this is gonna be fun.

He stalked up the stairs grinning like—well, like himself again. The voices were coming from a room at the end of the hall which turned out to be a master bedroom, empty of all furniture except for three sheet-draped shapes that might have been chairs.

"Daddy's home!" He shouted, smiling when three startled faces turned to face him.

He was promptly knock flat on his ass. The axe he was holding skittered toward the door.

"Oh come on, the invisibility bit is cheatin'. Come out here and fight me like a man!" Spike pulled himself to his feet. He backed casually toward the door, not wanting them to notice the axe.

"Hello Boy…tie him up." Said a disembodied voice. He knew it was Angelus though Liam's signature Irish brogue was noticeably gone.

A man came toward him with some sort of fancy looking ray gun leveled at the Vampire's chest.

"Warren?" Spike recognized the robot builder.

"You remembered my name—awesome." He added under his breath.

Two other boys came forward with zip-ties. Spike almost laughed—those would never hold him. He was about to make a snarky comment when a rare bout of common sense flooded him and he kept his mouth shut.

They did confiscate the axe though, and that was going to be a problem.

The trio led him to the far corner of the room where he found he was not the only hostage. There was an unconscious man and woman slumped against the wall, and a very conscious Jenny-Alaina, gagged and wide-eyed beside them. They shoved Spike down beside them and went back to whatever they had been doing in the center of the empty room.

"Esse enim hominis" said the blonde of the group.

"Why isn't anything happening?" The short one.

"Becase you're not saying it right…" Warren ripped the talisman the group was using from Andrews hand.

No, not Talisman. Holy relic. Spike's eyes went wide.

Warren waved it over the crude circle they'd made from something resembling sand. "Sit potentia educi…"

He continued chanting but Spike honestly wasn't listening. He pulled at the zip-ties and they snapped with a faint click. He inched closer to the gypsy, trying to keep up the appearance of being tied up. Her restraints were unfortunately more complicated. Handcuffs on wrist and ankle. He pulled off her gag, placing a finger against his lips, "Play along. Don't move yet." He mouthed. "Cavalry's here, luv."

It was then that he realized he should have been paying closer attention to Warren and his minions. The sand of the circle began to shift, as if each grain was vibrating. It moved, clumping and forming into something solid, two shapes—a man and woman. Their features weren't exactly distinguishable—it was like a watercolor, no hard lines or details, just vague impressions.

Apparently, they were dealing with Angelus and the Sand—woman? Oh, but it was Angelus. Spike could read every movement, feel each twitch so familiar it was like an extension of himself. Angelus threw back his featureless head and roared, then it morphed into something like laughter. Laughter that Spike new too well.

"What's the hell?" Spike said, confused by the two figures now laughing maniacally and the nerd trio who stood by unsure if they should join in.

"The demons aren't strong enough to attach to a body for more than a few hours. They need a power source to anchor them to this plane. But whatever they just did with that talisman made them semi-corporal. They can possibly touch things of their own accord." Alaina's eyes went wide. "I have no idea where that came from. How did I know that?"

Spike considered his answer. He couldn't possibly explain it all now. He was saved from having to respond when the door crashed open and the gang arrived. Xander, Anya and Giles looked more or less like Xander, Anya, and Giles…but there was something about Willow. Her fingers twitched at her sides, writhing like restless snakes and her eyes were not their usual green, they were darker, the pupils wider. Spike could smell power and he didn't like it one bit.

But, it would help them get out of the mansion alive so he decided to roll with it.

"Whelp!" He yelled, grabbing Alaina by the arm and tossing her toward him. Gt her out of here. He saw Anya and Alaina duck out of the room as Giles, Willow and Xander closed in on the nerds.

"You three? You're the one's behind this?"

"How did you know?" one of them demanded.

"The eye-patch kinda gave you away there, Johnathan."

Johnathan, the short one ducked his head. Willow stalked toward them.

"Give me that." Her fingers sought out the talisman in Warren's hand.

"Back witch." He said, waving the talisman as if wielding some sort of shielding power.

Willow simply plucked it from his hands and shoved him aside.

"Hmmm, someone's come out of her shell." All eyes turned to Angelus's form in the center of the circle. "I didn't know you had it in you, mousy thing that you were."

"Angelus." Giles growled. An arrow zinged from his crossbow before Spike could even register what was happening. It stuck fast where a heart would've been if Angelus had one. The form looked down at the arrow protruding from his chest. He snatched it and ripped it our, tossing it aside.

"Won't work Watcher. I'm done with that weak mortal bullshit. Don't need precious Angel anymore. I'm working on a body of my very own and your little weapons aren't going to stop me. "Come, Liv." He extended a shapeless hand to the Sandwoman and together they vanished with a pop. Spike felt them still in the room though he couldn't see where they'd gone but soon their presence faded too.

"Their gone." Spike said. He stalked toward the trio. "What's say we play a little game of hostage?"

"I'm out." Warren yelled. He flicked his wrist and he too vanished in a cloud of cheap magician's smoke, leaving behind Johnathan and the other one, whose name escaped the vampire.

Spike scooped up the chains and ties that had been used to bind Alaina and the two other hostages, who were dead by then. He tossed the chains to Xander and together, they tied up the two nerds and pushed them toward the exit.


	18. Testing a Theory

**Ch 18:**

**Testing a Theory**

Alaina was shaking when the group deposited her on the barstool in Buffy's kitchen. The slayer was torn between seeing to her and going to the basement to figure out why her gang had felt the need to take two hostages.

"Can I get you something?" It sounded a bit more impatient than Buffy meant for it to. She wasn't impatient with Alaina…she was just thoroughly over the amnesia thing. They needed Jenny back and they needed her now. She had a very satisfying mental picture of grabbing Miss Calander and shaking her until she remembered.

Alaina's eyes were round and absent. She shook her head slowly and said without really looking at anything, "I knew things about the ritual they were doing…and the dreams. I've been having these dreams. It's like I'm underwater and someone is standing above me looking down—I can almost see who it is but…"

Buffy could one-hundred-percent relate to that but she had no words to help Alaina. The Slayer was barely dealing with all that herself. "Well, if you think of anything you need…Spike will help you!" She pulled the vampire in question away from the basement door where he'd just emerged and thrust him toward the dark haired woman. "I'm going to see about some hostages."

Spike yelped and let out a very British  _Oy!_ Whether Alaina balked at being left alone with the vampire whom she was still afraid of…Buffy didn't stay to find out.

Downstairs in the basement, Xander and Willow were playing good cop, bad cop and doing an eerily good job at it. Giles was lurking on the fringes of the room, studying the relic that hadn't left his hand since their arrival. Angel had slipped away—which wasn't at all concerning.  _Yeah right._ Anya was…off somewhere being Anya and Dawn was with Tara finishing her homework…Buffy really didn't need her failing any more of her classes.  _No wonder high school and I were so un-mixy_ , she thought.

"It was all Warren's idea!" The short blonde boy—Tucker or Alex maybe?

Jonathan cast him a withering stare. "Andrew! They haven't even started the torture yet! You can't break this early. What would Vader say?"

Adrew, that was it…Buffy vaguely remembered that from somewhere.

"I'm Luke and you know it. He never gets tortured!" Andrew shouted.

"Enough!" Willow silenced them—she silenced the whole basement if the Slayer was honest. "Who are you working for and what did they want you to do?"

"We know one of them is Angelus…who's the other?" Xander said.

Jonathan shook his head. Andrew tried to do the same but all Willow had to do was raise a threatening hand as if to slap him and he was gushing out information again. "At first Warren just wanted to be super villains, you know—the Slayer's arch-nemesis's—nemeses?"

"Nemeses." Johnathan agreed.

"Then, one night he said he'd talked to Liv and she and Angelus was going to help us become immortal if we did everything she wanted." Andrew continued, "That sounded way better than just being super villains so…"

Xander laughed, "I'm going to let you down gently by saying immortality is not that hot a commodity in Sunnydale…you could've have found an over-friendly vamp and saved yourselves the trouble."

"Tell that to Warren." Jonathan grumbled.

"Alright, we are losing the thread here." Willow was back in command. "Who is Liv?"

They both shrugged. "It's not like we've actually seen her." Andrew pointed out. "Angelus calls her his girl."

"Spike was super cryptic boy when we were talking about Merit Albright earlier—making with the warnings to Angel. He said Angelus and he knew Merit." Buffy said, joining in the conversation.

"Merit…the hooker in Ripper's London?" Xander said.

"Classy." Andrew said appreciatively, earning another slap warning from Willow.

"No Buffy's right. I asked Travers to look into her…speaking of which I'm going to go call him to check in. Maybe he's found something." Giles tucked the relic in his coat and climbed the stairs.

"Right behind you Giles." Said Buffy. "Make sure the chains are locked tight." She reminded Xander and Willow before she to left the basement. She just wasn't feeling the interrogation scene for some reason. Maybe it was the ever present hunger this little one was causing—yes, egg sandwiches were definitely priority one.

* * *

Spike came around the counter, putting some distance between him and the Gypsy-teacher-ghost-angel. Ugh, what was it Buffy said?  _Must be Tuesday._  He glanced at the clock on the stove, 1:05am…Buffy would be hungry any minute. With an amused smile he went to the refrigerator and began fishing for the ingredients to make her usual order.

"I'm making the Slayer her dinner. You want some toast? You look b touch ghostly."

Alaina gave a forced nod, as if she were only agreeing because she was afraid not to. Spike could taste her fear in the air between them, for once in his un-life he could honestly say it was off-putting. "Look, you can stop looking at me like I'm the bloody Boogeyman. Not going to hurt you. I'm standing here making scrambled eggs for the bloody Slayer for Christ's sake. I know how to make scrambled eggs—that alone should ease your fears."

"Are all vampires like you?" She asked.

"Not as far as I know." He admitted.

"Let's just say I changed my religion when I fell for Buffy."

Alaina had the nerve to smile a bit, which was something. "I can almost remember you, you know? All of you actually. Every day it gets stronger. You should keep telling me stories about your lives, maybe something will click."

"I think what you should do is go a snog the Watcher. Works in all the fairy stories—if angels are real, those can't be too far off."

A pink flush crept up her cheeks. "Why would I  _snog_ anyone? And who is the Watcher?"

"Giles, pet." He said as he poured beaten egg mixture into the waiting pan. "You and he were, well…he loves you, let's just say that."

"He does?" Her eyes went hollow again as if she'd retreated into her own mind. It was a look Spike was familiar with, Buffy did that sometimes. Maybe it was a returned from Heaven trait.

Alaina said, "Here I've been prancing around, leading him on…have I been leading him on do you think? I mean, I have a fiancé."

Spike chuckled, "Pet, that stuffy bastard still thinks flashing a bit of ankle is a scandal…and  _I_  am supposed to be the Victorian around here." Spike shut off the stove and came toward Alaina. He rested his elbows on the island and leaned down so they were eye level. "Deep down, you know who you are. I think maybe you're in your own way. Just reach inside and find the truth, it's in there."

She nodded, her big brown eyes locked on Spike's blues. For a moment, just a moment, someone else looked back at him too…someone older, someone wiser.

"Whoa, tense silence much?" Said Buffy, coming into the kitchen. Spike straightened up and went to put her sandwich on a plate. He slid it toward her and her face lit up in that way that he loved. If he'd known all he had to do to get Buffy to fall in love with him was feed her, he'd have had a lot less suffering to say the least. "You knew I was hungry?" Now her eyes were looking a mite watery. Pregnancy hormones. Spike sighed and pulled her against his chest.

"Luv, no offense but, it wasn't hard. You're always hungry. Vampire hearing—your stomach was making gurglies"

She smacked his chest but there was no venom behind it. "See, this is why I love you." And just like that the world tilted off its axis.

He knew if he tried to speak he would only ruin the moment. Hell, he wasn't even sure the Slayer realized what she'd said. So, he used his lips for other things. Things he was much better at than speaking. He pressed his mouth against hers, immediately sucking at her bottom lip, deepening the kiss, completely ignoring Alaina. Maybe the show would give her some ideas as far as the Watcher was concerned. Win win.

Buffy hands came up to thread in the short curls at the base of his neck, and her body pressed fully against his. Slayer was apparently just as far gone and he wasn't complaining. He was vaguely aware of a delighted squeal that some part of his subconscious attributed to Dawn Summers, but that didn't stop him.

What did was the disgusted noise from one Xander Harris. "I mean, I'm trying to come to terms with this, really I am, but I am not ready for making out in the kitchen."

"Shut it Xander." Said Dawn boldly. "Look how happy they are."

Spike peered down at Buffy. Her lips were kiss swollen and her cheeks were red and she looked utterly perfect.  _I'm going to marry that girl,_  he thought. He dropped a parting kiss on the top of her head and turned to face the others. "So, what did you find out?"

* * *

Alaina slipped off the barstool as the strange group in the kitchen switched into detective mode. She was in search of Giles. She didn't want to admit that the vampire had given her a pretty decent pep talk…and now she was genuinely curious about his conjectures.

She found Giles in the living room, just setting the phone back in the receiver. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked haggard, tired and it made something in her ache. She hated to see him like this.

He looked at her when she settled beside him. "Miss—er—Alaina. Can I help you with something?"

She topped forward and brushed her lips against his. It was quick and simple. She sat back, studying him with head titled to the side.

His eyes were wide, his glasses stalled halfway through their journey from his hand to his face.

"I was testing a theory." She said.

"Did it work?" He asked quietly.

Her face fell slightly. She scrunched up her nose in concentration. "Computers." She said.

"You kissed me and I made you think of…computers. Brilliant." He said.

"Is that, did Jenny have…a computer?" Her head dropped into her hands, "Ugh, that is possibly the lamest thing I've ever said."

"No no, this is good. Jenny taught computer science at Sunnydale High."

Her eyes sparkled, "I remembered something!" She said, bouncing slightly on the couch. "Wait, I remembered…does that mean I'm accepting this whole, I'm actually another person thing? I guess I am."

Giles grinned, He gave his best attempt at slipping his arm behind her on the couch. "Maybe we could try again." He almost took himself seriously with that line.

Thankfully, Alaina grinned back and said, "I think that could be arranged."

* * *

Angel lurked outside on the porch steps. When Spike called him up in LA less than a week ago, he'd thought it was to threaten imminent sun tans. Boy, had he been wrong. Nothing was the way it should be.

Ironically, Buffy, Spike, and their spawn didn't bother him as much as the other new addition to the group.

Jenny Calendar eclipsed his future great-grandchild and that was quite a feat.

He couldn't even be in the same room with her…let alone look Giles in the eye.

Wasn't he supposed to be the Powers chosen warrior? Why would they torture him like this?

He sat there wallowing, no intentions of going in to join the chaos when he felt his presence. He couldn't see him…but he felt him there. Angelus. It was surreal to finally feel separate from him. Angelus the demon and Angel the Vampire (if that's even what he was now…what was a vampire with a soul and no demon?)

"Boyo." Said Angelus, though the accent sounded forced. After all, it belonged to Liam not Angelus.

Angel nodded in greeting, eyes fixed on the blades of grass that shifted under the weight of the vague form. The ritual they'd interrupted had made him stronger, more like Liv. Not visible but corporeal enough to disturb his surroundings. The invisible outline just waiting for his flesh. For Buffy's child. The thought made bile rise up the back of his throat. As much as he despised Spike, he would never hand over his child to this demon. He knew every facet of Angelus intimately and he knew what he would do with a body of his own and no limits. Able to teleport, able to disappear at will. Able to end it all.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"To thank you for thew years of hospitality. Liv says hi."

With that he was gone and Angel knew his brooding was at an end. There was no way to change what he'd done to Giles and Jenny…but they had a second chance, and maybe he did too.


	19. Good Cop, Bad Cop

**Ch 19:**

**Good Cop, Bad Cop**

 

“Not you too?” Xander said scrunching his eyes closed as soon as he entered the living room. “It’s bad enough I have to deal with the bleach menace making on Buffy…but Giles too? There’s only so much a man can take.”

Alaina ducked, her head, cheeks pink. Giles had to scoff at that. One thing his Jenny and this Alaina did not have in common was blushing. If anything, _he’d_ been the one to blush in Jenny’s presence. Her more brazen streak was something he was really looking forward to rediscovering.

“We were testing a theory,” Giles said, rising from the couch. “I need some fresh air.”

He went through the kitchen and out the back door where he found Spike, seated on the porch steps smoking. It was still strange to see him, a commonplace addition to the Summers’ home. He supposed it always would be strange.

Against his better judgment, Giles sat down beside him. “Do you have a spare?”

Spike glanced at him sidelong, cheeks hollowed in as he sucked on the end of his smoke.

“Being around Jenny er-Alaina,” Giles rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, “I’m just tense, I suppose.”

“I didn’t ask,” Spike tossed the pack at him, “Keep them. Trying to quit anyway, what with the bitty bit on the way an’ all.”

Giles took one out of the pack and turned it over and over in his fingers. Another nasty comment about Spike was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Couldn’t really bring himself to hate him anymore either and couldn’t say when it had happened.

Without prompting, Spike flicked open his Zippo. Giles leaned forward, cigarette between his lips and let the end find the flames.

The Watcher sighed, “I spoke with Travers…about Merrit Albright.”

Spike made a thoughtful sound deep in his throat. “He tell you ‘bout Angelus ripping her throat out in front of her children?”

“No, but he mentioned the group who resurrected her. A coven in London. Long gone now.”

Again, Spike was silent.

“You know all of this already, don’t you?” Giles didn’t know why that surprised him. It really shouldn’t have. Spike was like a vault collecting information and only dispersing it when it suited him…maybe on those lines he was more of an undead slot machine.

The vampire shrugged his leather-clad shoulders. “Didn’t know specifically. Assumed as much, though. I remember some holy crusader types from right after I was turned. Angelus had a hard-on for draining ‘em. Liked to have them for second dinner.”

Giles shivered at that mental picture. “Travers suspects that Merrit Albright and Jack the Ripper were brought back together to preserve the balance.”

“Right the whole, one checks out of heaven, one checks out of hell scenario. We covered that during circle time at the Magic Box.”

“Right, but he suspects they died together as well. They were linked. Which means—”

“Angelus and Liv are connected to Buffy and the new bit.” To Spike’s credit, he took the news well. Ever the unreadable enigma that he was. He stared into the night, breath coming in slow even tempo. “Can’t kill one without killing the other.”

“Whistler said they sent Jenny to prevent that outcome. If I could just figure out what to do with the damn amulet.”

“You better figure it out quick. That’s my kid in there. If keeping bitty bit and mommy Buffy alive means I need to lock angelus and the sandman—er, sandlady—spook in an iron vault for all eternity and throw away the key, that’s what I’ll do. Don’t need to kill ‘em. If it comes down to choosing—I’ll keep them all alive rather than the alternative.”

Giles had lost the thread somewhere during Spike’s jumbled speech, but overall he thought he more or less agreed. No one was sacrificing Buffy’s life to kill a demon…not again.

Giles turned to say as much to Spike, but he was gone, vanished like the creature of the night that he was.

* * *

Spike slipped into the basement where the super friends were still conducting their interrogation. He came up behind Buffy and wrapped his arms around her middle, resting his hands on the nearly imperceptible swell of her stomach.

“Is this going to take much longer?” He breathed low against her ear.

She shivered in response. He could hear the grin in her voice, “Baby, we have to find out where Warren is and what he’s planning.”

“I know that but why don’t you let Harris take over for a mo’? Better yet, get demon girl down here. She’ll beat it out of them.”

Buffy turned her head to peer at him over her shoulder, “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Spike took that opportunity to steal a kiss. One that was intended to be quick, but as always, his brain shut off the moment their lips touched and it was anything but. Buffy turned in his arms and pressed her chest against his, locking her arms around his neck.

“Awe, they’re in love.”

It came from the hostage that wasn’t Johnathan.

“Don’t remind us,” Xander whined.

Willow frowned, “Yeah, guys, could you maybe not do that right in front of my hostages?”

“Sorry, Red. Was just reminding the slayer that she’s been at this a while now and she needs her rest what with the—“

Buffy’s elbow caught him in the ribs and he trailed off. She probably didn’t want Warren’s goons finding out about the baby and tattling to their leader. Made sense.

Spike cleared his throat, “Right. We’ll leave you to it then.” He pulled Buffy by the hand, not giving her anymore chance to argue. Her chest pressed against him left a situation that needed dealt with…immediately.

He didn’t stop walking when they reached the kitchen. Instead, he took her straight to the front door.

“Where are you two going? We have—“ Giles followed them from the kitchen.

“Patrolling.” Said Spike without looking back.

He didn’t hear the Watcher’s response because he was already out the door, Buffy at his heels, allowing herself to be pulled along without complaint.

“You going to tell me what that was all about?”

Spike stopped walking. He spun to face her, threaded his fingers in her golden hair and kissed her, not waiting for an invitation before he explored her warm mouth with his tongue.

He pulled away after a moment to say, “Crypt, now.”

“Yeah-huh,” Buffy nodded.

They took off, running side by side, and Spike was nothing short of giddy. Sure, there was an apocalypse, but he had his slayer by his side. And she was well and truly his now…in almost every sense of the word.

They took the sewers that led directly into the basement bedroom of Spike’s crypt. The moment they were there, Spike pushed Buffy onto the sprawling white sheets and crawled up her body to find her lips again.

Buffy writhed beneath him, driving him wild with each movement. He thanked the powers that be for his vamp sense that could smell her arousal…and Warren?

Spike’s lips froze.

Buffy whimpered when he pulled away. “Uh uh, mister. You do not get to get me all worked up and change your mind.”

Spike held a finger to his lips and pointed at the ladder.

Buffy sprang into Slayer mode. It was almost a visible change on her face. She glanced at the ladder and nodded her head.

Spike reached over her to the nightstand and pulled out a knife that he handed to Buffy.

She looked at the sharp object and back at him, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“S’not a vamp upstairs, pet. It’s a real-life human demon.”

Spike climbed the ladder first, using all the creature of the night stealth he could muster. Which was apparently not enough because the moment he was up the ladder, he heard the click of a gun being readied.

Spike’s hands shot up on instinct, not because he was afraid of the gun, but because the gun was not aimed at him.

“Come on up here, Slayer,” Warren said.

Buffy appeared on the ladder and climbed up to join them. In their earlier passion, Spike had taken off her blouse, leaving her in only the tight tank she wore beneath, which clung to all the places he wished it wouldn’t right now.

A grin broke on Warren’s face when he saw her. “Oh, this is better than I could’ve planned for. Slayer’s expecting. Which, I’m guessing, means that you’ll do just about anything to keep her safe.”

Buffy lifted her hands in surrender but Spike saw the wheels moving in her head. He did the same, searching for the best ambush technique. The best way to get the gun away from the maniac.

“I want the amulet,”

“Amulet?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. Jenny’s amulet,” he lunged so fast that Spike barely saw him move. Maybe he wasn’t so human anymore? He pressed the gun to Buffy’s temple and said, “Let’s go, Spike. Lead the way. Through the sewers, not the main streets. I don’t want any interruptions.”


End file.
